Wedding for Thought
by Muddles
Summary: The wedding bells are ringing for our beloved Gryffindors. The trio5 years after graduation from Hogwarts! Written pre HBP
1. The Big News

Unfortunately none of these characters belong to me; I borrow them only for my creative purposes (thanks, JK). I didn't really want to add an HP fic to this already-extensive list of fics, but this one just kept writing itself.  
  
~*~  
"Harry, I have some rather disturbing news," Ron told his best friend at a pub in London one drizzly Saturday afternoon. Harry smirked and took a swig of his butterbeer.

     "That so? You look ill--what's up, did Percy put in a bid for Minister of Magic?"

      "Bloody hell, I hope not! Don't even say it aloud, the idea might get back to him," Ron leaned across the table and said the latter quietly, as though Percy had spies sitting at nearby tables. His Weasley red hair fell into his eyes, and he brushed it away hastily. He hadn't changed much since school. If anything, he'd gotten even taller, and thinner.

      "No, Harry, this is much more drastic--well, almost, anyway. I'm getting married." Harry's mug, which had previously been halfway to his lips, lowered slowly.

     "I'm sorry, what was that?" Harry asked in disbelief. Ron sat back in his chair with a fallen expression.

     "Married, chum. I finally popped the question," Ron answered, a slight tone of defeat entering his voice.

     "I'm sorry--I thought you were seeing Hermione," Harry said with a touch of confusion. His attention was suddenly diverted as he heard a loud belch from across the pub. A squat, greasy man with three chins was patting his chest appreciatively. Disgusted, Harry turned back to Ron.

     "I am, you dolt!"

     "You asked Hermione to marry you?" Harry couldn't stop the questions that kept flying from his mouth.

     "Well, I know her better than our waitress!"

     "And she said yes?"

     "Don't sound so surprised!" Ron said in anger. "Look, I thought it was bad enough, taking myself out of the game--"

     "Ron, let's face it. You never played especially well." Harry took a sip of his drink and set it down again, looking at it with disbelief. "You and Hermione."

     "I wasn't sure exactly how to tell you. I think Hermione really wanted to be the one to tell you, but I know that this reaction probably wouldn't have gone well with her," Ron said with a hint of bitterness. He had expected Harry to be shocked, but had hoped that the shock would quickly be replaced with well wishes.

     "I'm sorry, mate. You're right. Congratulations. It's about time," Harry said, a genuine grin breaking across his face. "Let me cover the drinks in celebration," he continued, motioning their waitress over to the table.  
~*~

     When the drinks had been bought and the chums went their separate ways- -after Harry finally wholeheartedly convinced Ron that he was truly happy for them--Harry went home to think. His flat on the fifth floor didn't seem like quite a hike tonight, and Harry realized the climb goes much quicker when something occupies your mind.

     "Big news, Neville," Harry said, tossing his jacket on the couch when he entered the flat.

     "What's that?" his roommate answered, coming out of the bathroom. Neville's chin and neck were covered in a thick lather.

     "Ron popped the question to Hermione." Harry flipped on the telly absentmindedly and surfed through the channels. Neville grunted and then retreated into the bathroom. The two had been roommates since they went through Auror training. Not surprisingly, Neville failed his first go- through, but took a year off and tried again. He was back in his first year of training and doing considerably better, with Harry's occasional tutelage.

     "Not surprised. Bound to happen." The answer echoed off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

     "Yeah. I suppose," said Harry thoughtfully.

     "Oh, you got another owl from Dumbledore today."

     "Oh yeah?" Harry's ears perked up at the sound of his former headmaster's name. It had been five years since he and his classmates had graduated from Hogwarts, but not a day went by that Harry didn't think about his mentor and friend Albus Dumbledore.

     "Still wants you for the Dark Arts position, I bet." Neville came out of the bathroom, patting his face with a royal blue towel. Neville had matured considerably since graduation, his childishly pudgy face too had thinned and he'd gained some vertical inches. Though, his increase in confidence had probably made the biggest difference in his appearance. An appearance that had not gone unnoticed by the ladies. Due to Neville's high surplus of dates, Harry often found himself in the apartment alone when he wasn't working.

     "Yeah." Harry turned off the set and stretched on the couch. Neville turned off the light in the bathroom and disappeared into his room. Harry glanced toward the window, where Hedwig was preening herself on the ledge outside. He made his way into the kitchen, where the letter from Dumbledore waited._  
Harry Potter  
Flat 5A  
13 Hardaman Road  
London, England_

      The handwriting was unmistakably Dumbledore's, Harry thought, opening the letter. Neville was right. Dumbledore was asking Harry to grace the school with his presence and his extensive knowledge and experience in the defense against dark arts. Few people said no to Dumbledore, and Harry feared it was only a matter of time before he left those few. He enjoyed being an Auror too much; he felt special being part of the Order. He felt connected to his parents and especially Sirius, all of whom had died doing their noble duty that they believed in so strongly. Harry carefully folded the note and placed it in his back pocket. He was sorting through the bills, when the window resounded with a loud THUNK!

     "You say something?" Neville asked, coming out of his bedroom.

     "No, just an owl," Harry answered, opening the door for the barn owl that had tried to avoid Hedwig on the ledge but was unsuccessful. Both of the owls knocked against the window, and Hedwig puffed her feathers angrily and snapped her beak in warning to the visitor. The other owl hooted ashamedly and backed away from her wrath. Seeing Harry, the owl held his leg out gracefully, and with an apologetic look toward Hedwig, sailed away again.  
  
_ Harry Potter  
State of Shock  
Flat 5A  
13 Hardaman Road  
London, England_

     Harry opened the letter with a smile.

     "Who's this one from?" Neville asked, coming into the kitchen. He opened the cooler and pulled out a jug of milk. He took a swig and replaced it in the fridge.

     "Hermione."

     "Hm--couldn't wait to get her two cents in, I suppose," said Neville. He stood behind Harry and glanced at the parchment, trying to read the letter. He needn't have bothered, as Harry read it aloud.

     "Exactly. Listen, _'As I could not be present for Ron's unexpected announcement, I wanted to send you a brief letter. I know this may seem a shock to you, Harry, but it really shouldn't. Fred and George remind me nearly every day that Ron and I fought like a married couple before we were fifteen. I couldn't marry anyone else, and I don't know that I'd want to.'_"

     "Bloody crazy," Neville muttered, buttoning up his shirt. "Look, Harry, I've got a date with Josie tonight. If Natalina stops by, tell her I'm working late."

     "Sure." Harry looked up from his note. "Uh, don't forget--" Harry made a motion of brushing off his own face and then pointed to Neville's. Neville looked confused and then brushed his jaw.

     "Oh yeah," he said with a grin, and pulled off the piece of toilet paper that had been a supplementary bandage for a razor cut. Harry smiled and shook his head. Neville may look a lot different, but he was still essentially the same.

     "By the way, you really ought to break it off with one of those girls," Harry said lightly, half-envious of his friend's womanizing abilities.

     "I know," Neville said with a mischievous grin. "But I don't want to hurt their feelings." Harry rolled his eyes and said goodnight to his exiting roommate.

     Now alone in the house, Harry sat down at the kitchen table, Hermione's letter still clutched in his left hand. As he scanned it over once more, his hand involuntarily moved to his unruly black hair and subconsciously began to smooth it--or at least attempt to.

     "It took me awhile to get used to the fact they were dating," Harry said aloud to Hedwig. His snowy owl hopped inside the window, deciding she was safer in the comforts of the kitchen. Hedwig tilted her head to the side and cooed gently, listening to Harry.

     "It's not that I don't like it. I don't mind at all. Once I got used to it, it felt perfectly natural. And even now, I know it's right that they'll marry. But it doesn't mean it's easy to get used to." His thoughts carried him back two years, to a birthday celebration for Ron. He and Hermione were to take Ron out for a few drinks and mini-celebration. But Harry had an unexpected training session and had to back out at the last minute. Talking to Ron the next day, he later found out that Ron and Hermione had a pleasant evening alone--and they had decided to have another one on Saturday. These casual dates gradually became more serious and they were dating exclusively within the year. Mrs. Weasley had been overjoyed when she found out, and Harry knew it was a difficult task for her not to push the relationship.

     Two years seemed a long time to seriously date someone, Harry thought as he leaned back in his chair. The chair gave an ominous squeak as he lifted the front legs off the ground and balanced precariously on the back two. But then, two years would seem long to anyone who hasn't had a date within the past 8 months.

     "It's too damn quiet around here," Harry said hotly, and slammed the chair back onto the floor. He pushed away from the table and closed the window with a slam. Hedwig ruffled her feathers and flew into her cage to sulk. Harry returned to the living room and turned on the football game. It wasn't as nearly interesting as Quiddich, but it kept Harry's mind off of Ron and Hermione's impending marriage and his contrarily lacking personal life.


	2. Back at the Burrow

Chapter 2  
  
"Oh, I can't tell you how excited I am," said Mrs. Weasley, setting down a plate full of muffins. Hermione smiled up at the woman and took the plate from her.  
  
"We're glad to hear that."  
  
"Have you told Harry?" Mrs. Weasley joined her diminished family at the table for breakfast. Ginny still lived at home, but was beginning to speak of moving out. Ron had a living arrangement with some co-workers, but often found himself at home during summer for extended vacations. The twins had moved out by their second year in the joke shop, as profits had continually rolled in. Bill had a wife of his own already, but Charley was still out and about doing "God knows what," as Mrs. Weasley would bemoan. Mr. Weasley worked at the Ministry still, but the tinges of gray in the last of his red hair had become more prominent. Mrs. Weasley, in turn, hid her own follicle aging by sweeping it neatly under a kerchief.  
  
"Yes, Ron was kind enough to break the news last night," Hermione said pointedly, giving Ron a disapproving look.  
  
"We agreed he should be the first to know. And you came close enough to telling Mum two nights ago, that I figured the sooner, the better." Ron held up his hands in defense. Ginny smirked as Hermione passed her the plate of eggs. She enjoyed watching their tiffs.  
  
"But we also agreed to tell him together," Hermione said, stressing the last word.  
  
"All right, all right, I'm sorry!" Ron said. "We'll invite him over for supper."  
  
"Now there's an idea!" Mrs. Weasley chirped brightly.  
  
"Is that all the fight you're gonna give?" Ginny addressed Ron with a touch of disappointment.  
  
"Whatever you may think, I am not here to provide you with a source of entertainment," Ron growled, taking the plate from his sister. Ginny smiled and took a bite of breakfast.  
  
"That's what you think."  
  
"Have you set a date yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked Hermione.  
  
"Good grief, Mum!" Ron exclaimed, handing his mother the dish. Mrs. Weasley didn't look ashamed at all.  
  
"Perfectly natural question, I think, seeing as how you two seemed to have kept this secret quite some time," she answered and patted her husband's hand. "Anything you need, dear?" Mr. Weasley shook his head in response. He had been strangely quiet all morning. Not that Ron didn't mind, but he wondered what gears were turning in his father's head.  
  
"Well, the delightful thing is, you're not the father of the bride anyway. Won't have to pay much!" Ron said. The minute the words exited his mouth, he wondered what had come over him.  
  
"But I'd best be taking notes for the trouble maker down there," said Mr. Weasley, his eyes lifting to acknowledge his youngest opposite him at the other end of the table. Ginny swallowed her eggs with some difficulty and pointed to herself with her fork.  
  
"Me, Dad? Good--you can't be thinking about my wedding already! Why, that's not fair; Hermione hasn't even had hers yet!"  
  
"All the same, it won't be much longer now. And you'd best be paying attention, too." Mr. Weasley pointed at his daughter with his fork and then returned to his breakfast. Ginny rolled her eyes and mentally wrote him off as senile.  
  
"I've never been to a wizard wedding," Hermione said, changing the subject. "Is it very different from a Muggle wedding?"  
  
"Wouldn't know--we've never been to a Muggle wedding," Ron said, looking up at his fiancée. A look of concern crossed his face as he realized this might become a sticky situation.  
  
"Oh, dear," Hermione said.  
  
"You've never been. But your father has," Mrs. Weasley said brightly. Mr. Weasley nodded and wiped his mouth.  
  
"Not too different. Muggles get a priest or a minister of some kind. Wizards use an Officer of Ceremony, from the Law Enforcement Department. Thousands of wizards are officers that don't actually enter the office. You can usually find someone you know to perform the ceremony."  
  
"That's not too unusual from a Justice of the Peace," Hermione said, confidence returning. When the Weasleys all returned her look with a blank look of confusion, she smiled awkwardly and waved off the comment with a "never mind." The dishes clinked in the sink under Mrs. Weasley's Scour Charm. Hermione could faintly hear the sounds of gnomes cackling in the garden underneath the kitchen window. When Mr. Weasley had swallowed his most recent bit, he continued.  
  
"And at the reception Muggles do this salutation bit," he said, his brow furrowing. He was clearly trying to recall what it was exactly that occurred.  
  
"Don't hurt yourself, Dad," Ginny said brightly. Mrs. Weasley shot her daughter a look of warning, but Ginny merely ignored her, unlike her brothers who would have immediately cowered.  
  
"She's taken to spending a bit too much time with Fred and George," Ron whispered across the table.  
  
"In any case, some members of the procession stand and say a few sloppy words--"  
  
"Oh, now, darling, I'm sure they're very nice," Mrs. Weasley said quickly, glancing at Hermione and hoping her future daughter-in-law wouldn't take offense.  
  
"Not really, Molly. So these blokes stand and say a few sentimental words to the happy couple. Everyone lifts their glass and gives a cheer of some kind.that's it: 'Cheers!' And they all guzzle down that fizzy drink that, in my opinion, is highly overrated and doesn't come close to matching good-old elderflower and rosemary wine," Mr. Weasley said with a touch of pride. He pushed away from the table slightly and got more comfortable in the old dining chair. Mrs. Weasley, in turn, stood and proceeded to clearing the table. Hermione noticed that as she swept by Ginny, Mrs. Weasley made a guttural sound in her throat, to which Ginny immediately responded. The girl jumped up and swiftly took Hermione's empty plate and glass before following her mother to the kitchen.  
  
"What sort of tradition do wizards have?" Hermione asked with genuine interest.  
  
"A long-standing, but certainly not as interesting, one," Mr. Weasley responded.  
  
"As if there's any other kind of tradition," Ron muttered under his breath. They all paused as Mr. Weasley leaned back further in his chair. The old furniture groaned its objection, but Mr. Weasley didn't take notice, as he continued.  
  
"The bride and groom are presented with a goblet that contains a very special elixir, pre-mixed before the reception. Someone presents the drink to the couple, by means of detailing the ingredients and the symbolic gesture behind them. The maid-of-honor and best man then add the last two ingredients, and then present it to the newlyweds who share the cup." Ginny reentered the room and returned to her seat with a sigh.  
  
"You're not?" she groaned.  
  
"Of course we will! If Hermione thinks it's all right," Mr. Weasley answered his daughter, slightly hurt.  
  
"Well, it doesn't sound that bad." Hermione started, but Ginny only grimaced. Ron had a slightly peaked look about him, too. "What exactly is in this drink that has everyone so worried?"  
  
"You'll have to wait," Mr. Weasley said with a grin. Hermione glanced once again at Ginny and Ron, who both looked quite uncomfortable at the mere thought of the draught. Her worries were abruptly interrupted however, as a snowy white owl flew into the dining room.  
  
"Hedwig!" Ginny cried aloud. The table erupted in smiles. Ron coaxed the bird over to him, and he promptly removed the parchment attached to Hedwig's leg. After which, Hedwig immediately toddled over to Ginny's ready and coddling arms.  
  
"It's for you, Hermione," Ron said, glancing at the addressee. Hermione reached across the table and took it from her fiancé. Her eyes scanned the paper quickly and she summarized it as she read.  
  
"He sends us his very best.apologizes for acting like a git in the pub.and promises to come over today or tomorrow, whenever it's possible for him to get away," Hermione looked up from the letter with a grin.  
  
"Brilliant!" Ron said, nodding his head approvingly. Hedwig, meanwhile, cooed appreciatively as Ginny pet and coddled the owl.  
  
"I do hope he gives me enough warning to have a good dinner ready for him!" Mrs. Weasley said, coming out of the kitchen with a tea towel clutched between her hands.  
  
"Judging by the cooking he can--or rather, can't do, he'd be happy if you just made him toast, Mum," Ron said wisely. 


	3. Together Again

Chapter Three  
  
Harry zipped up his bag and looked around the apartment, fearful he had forgotten something. He held two small bouquets in his right hand, one for Hermione and the other for Mrs. Weasley. Harry thought of Ginny, but waved away the thought. He wasn't sure what excuse he could use to pull that one off. He lifted the athletic bag off the floor, and made sure the note for Neville was taped to the front of the refrigerator--the one place he was sure Neville would notice. His roommate had gotten back late last night, stumbling into his room and closing the door. It was already after noon, and Harry still hadn't seen hide nor hair of his friend. Shifting the flowers into the crook of his arm, Harry took up a handful of Floo Powder. The flames in the fireplace leaped upward, green tongues licking the brick.  
  
"The Burrow!" Harry said loudly, stepping into the flames. After the brief and grimy ride, Harry stumbled into the main room of the Burrows. He coughed and brushed off the dirt coating him.  
  
"Harry!" He heard the scraping of chairs and movement of feet from the dining room. Overhead, Harry heard another pair of feet making their way down to see him. Hermione rushed into the room, her arms wide, and immediately embraced Harry. Ron was close behind, a large grin nearly cracking his face.  
  
"We're so glad you've come," Hermione said, taking a step back, for Ron and Harry to exchange masculine pleasantries.  
  
"Here," Harry said, tucking one bouquet under his arm, and extending the other one to Hermione. "These are for you. Congratulations." He gave the flowers a quick shake, and dust floated off them as well. Hermione's eyes glazed over and Harry could see the tears pooling in the corners.  
  
"Oh, Harry, thank you," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.  
  
"Yeah, Harry, you're making me look bad," Ron said, shaking his head. Mrs. Weasley entered the room, wiping her hands on a dishrag.  
  
"Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you again," she said, following Hermione's example and giving him a warm hug and a peck on the cheek. Harry quickly pulled the other bouquet out from under his arm. These flowers were now slightly mashed, but Harry gave them, too, a shake, hoping to perk them up a bit.  
  
"And these are for you."  
  
"Harry, you sweet boy. I'll put this in some water." Mrs. Weasley left the room, holding her flowers before her. She held them slightly at arm's length; afraid she might damage them by breathing.  
  
"Didn't you bring me a present, Harry?" said a voice from the stairs. Harry turned to see Ginny standing on the bottom stair. She looked fairly put out--but lovely.  
  
"I-uh-I'm afraid not. You see, you're not engaged," Harry said honestly. Ginny put a hand on her hip. Harry had to remind himself that other people were in the room and watching them.  
  
"Oh, I see, prejudiced against single women are you?"  
  
"Don't let her bother you, Harry. She's allergic anyway," Ron muttered. Ginny came toward the trio.  
  
"Maybe so, but it would be nice to know I was at least thought of."  
  
"I thought of you!" Harry said, hurriedly. These last words hung in the air a moment too long, and he continued nervously. "I just, uh...didn't have enough arms, you know." Ginny stood before him with a stoic expression as she sized him up. Then her face broke into a grin.  
  
"Good to have you back, Harry," she said, standing on tiptoe a bit to envelope him in a warm hug. Harry returned the hug with some surprise, thinking for a moment that he caught a brief glance pass between Hermione and Ron.  
  
"So, where can I put my things?" Harry said, standing upright.  
  
"Follow me," Ron said, taking Harry's bag and starting up the stairs.  
  
"How long will you be staying, Harry?" Hermione asked. The girls were following the boys up the stairs, Hermione keeping her flowers a safe distance from Ginny.  
  
"Oh, I dunno," said Harry with a sigh. "Long as I can be away, I suppose."  
  
"Don't you have some sick days you can use?" Hermione asked with concern. Harry looked down at her sheepishly.  
  
"Not sure. I've used quite a few."  
  
"They'd have to let you take them if you got really sick, right?" Ron said, half-turning to face Harry with a smile. They reached the 2nd floor, but continued up another flight.  
  
"I suppose. Why?"  
  
"Oh, no reason. But you'll be staying in Fred and George's old room. You might be surprised what you find," Ron said easily, obviously knowing full well what Harry would find.  
  
"Ron, he can't sabotage himself," Hermione said with a sigh. It didn't really matter. Whatever they wanted to do now, they did it.  
  
"Luckily, it's a holiday weekend anyway," Ginny said brightly, trailing behind Hermione and trying to ignore the tickle in her nose.  
  
"I'm just glad to get away. My life is my work now," Harry said, and Hermione noticed a touch of exhaustion in his voice. Ron, however, did not.  
  
"How's Neville, the old bat?" The company reached the 3rd floor, and Ron turned down the hall toward the twin's room.  
  
"Well. Very well. Haven't seen him in the past 16 hours." Harry followed Ron into the bedroom. The walls bore the scars of housing Fred and George for over sixteen years. Scorch marks graced the ceiling in various places, and Harry noticed a floorboard in the corner was loose. No doubt a spot to hide any of their various homemade prank candies. The beds were slightly sagging, and the quilts aged but Harry felt a swell of pride rise within him. If there was a place that felt more like home, he couldn't imagine it.  
  
"Really? He keep busy with work, too?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, real busy. It's definitely hard work keeping two girls you're seeing apart from each other," Harry said sarcastically. Ron placed Harry's bag on the bed in better shape. Harry followed him to the bed and unzipped it, taking out his toothbrush, toothpaste and towel. Ginny sat on the opposite bed, bouncing lightly. The springs creaked and squawked but she paid them no heed. Hermione sat next to Harry's bag on the bed and watched him unpack. Ron leaned against the nightstand standing between the two beds and watched his best friend.  
  
"Neville's got two girlfriends?" Hermione asked in shock.  
  
"Yeah. And, boy, is that interesting. Sometimes he forgets which one he's made a date with and it's pretty funny watching him try to sort it out. He has to talk to each of them, but subtly because if not the wrong one may get the impression he's asking her out for that night, and then he'd have two dates." Harry laughed, remembering that particular mess. Neville was a nervous wreck for three days. Harry had never seen him sweat quite so much.  
  
"Neville's having a good time, then," Ginny said, still bouncing. Harry turned to watch her.  
  
"Yeah," he said slowly. Ron crossed his arms and shifted slightly. Harry guessed the edge of the nightstand was cutting into his legs.  
  
"Don't you like being an Auror, Harry?" Hermione asked, changing the subject. Harry looked back to Hermione. He knew she read him all too well, and he confessed to his friends.  
  
"Well-it's what I wanted to do. But I just wish I didn't have to start at the bottom," Harry said sheepishly, sitting down on the bed next to Hermione. He lifted his bag and dropped it onto the floor. The bag disturbed a light coating of dust, which drifted up from the floor at the bag's landing.  
  
"But, Harry, we all have to start somewhere," Hermione said, trying to keep the admonishment out of her voice.  
  
"I know," said Harry quickly. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I know. I guess I had just hoped with my...."  
  
"Experience?" Ron supplied.  
  
"Yeah. Selfish, isn't it?" Harry asked, looking up. He met Ginny's gaze. She had stopped bouncing on the bed, but was watching him intently. Hermione didn't answer, so Ginny piped up.  
  
"I don't think so. It's normal. People have expected a lot out of you when you were growing up. It's probably boring being down at the bottom when you know you're better than everyone down there."  
  
"But that's still selfish, even if it is 'normal,'" Hermione said quickly, glaring at Ginny. Harry sighed and looked down at his bag. He gave it a shove with his foot.  
  
"I know. And that's the problem. Meeting and hanging out with members of the Order--many of which are Aurors--made me look at it with rose- colored glasses. I'd forgotten that people start at the bottom. I don't do much except paperwork and research." Ron grunted.  
  
"Join the club."  
  
"That's right, Harry!" Hermione said, cheering slightly. "It's all I'm doing at the moment."  
  
"You're an exception," said Ron. Harry turned to look at Ron, who still had his arms crossed but looked pensive. "She's been hitting the books until 2 in the morning, every day, just to do research for more spew."  
  
"Or just E.E.W.," Ginny giggled. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Hermione, you have to admit, you really know how to pick the acronyms."  
  
Harry held up his hands in defense to stop their flow of words.  
  
"Wait, what have I missed?" He looked at the occupants of the room with confusion. Hermione began to speak but Ron started in first.  
  
"She," he said, nodding to Hermione, "has taken on the daunting task of creating a new office."  
  
"Really? That's great, Hermione!" Harry said, turning to his friend.  
  
"But it's not," continued Ron with a half-smile. "That means in addition to her regular everyday work as Undersecretary to the Chair of Care and Control of Magical Creatures-which in and of itself means work above and beyond that of any sane person-she has to find enough research to support the development of the new office."  
  
"It'll be worth it," Hermione said firmly, looking now at Ron.  
  
"It'll mean that you will spend a total of 20 hours awake, 19 of them mad at me, and 4 hours sleeping, 2 of them spent jerking awake with new ideas," Ron responded dryly.  
  
"What's the new office?" Harry asked.  
  
"Let me," Hermione said, addressing Ron. She turned to Harry with a smile. "It'll be the Office for the Enforcement of Ethical Wizardry."  
  
"E.E.W.," Ginny supplied from the opposite bed. Harry couldn't help but laugh as he realized she was revealing the acronym that would no doubt be the slang title around the Ministry.  
  
"What exactly does this Office mean?"  
  
"Well, I hope to make it a department some day, there's certainly enough evidence to support it. It's like a civil rights movement. The intent is to wipe out feelings of aggression and superiority wizards harbor toward other species of the wizarding world, such as house-elves, centaurs, even giants."  
  
"House-elves again, Hermione?" Harry said, doubtfully.  
  
"No, no, it's OK now, really. I mean, I admit that S.P.E.W. really gave me the idea for this, but I've got it in perspective now. I realize there's no way to change the mindset of the house-elves into appreciating freedom. For those like Dobby who wish for freedom, it should be freely granted to them. But house-elves that are in service would be protected and ensured that they were taken care of. Even though Kreacher might have been old and, well, a little crazy, he would be treated with respect." Harry noticed Hermione had carefully left out Sirius. She knew he was particularly defensive about his godfather.  
  
"I remember our encounter with the centaurs," continued Hermione, "and when I thought about it, I was--am--heartbroken about the image they have of humans, because of our past and their past and the atrocious acts committed in the name of superiority." Hermione was speaking quickly now and with animation. The issue was close to her heart, and Harry knew that her passion and dedication to it would make E.E.W. one of the most efficient offices. He had no doubt that she could easily see it become a separate department in her lifetime--likely within 15 years if she played her cards right.  
  
"That's amazing, Hermione. It really is," Harry said, genuinely impressed with her ingenuity and courage to strike forward.  
  
"It's amazing how much work she's done," Ron said. Harry could hear the pride in his friend's voice. No matter how much Ron complained about Hermione's new project, he couldn't hide the fact he was immensely proud of his fiancée. "She has to have about 10 volumes of research to submit in addition to having a hearing."  
  
"I'm sure you'll get it, Hermione," Harry said encouragingly.  
  
"Thanks, Harry. It'll mean giving up a larger paystub, but I don't care."  
  
"It'll pay off once your Minster," Ron said with a smile. Hermione rolled her eyes, but grinned. Ginny made gagging motions.  
  
"But really, the research isn't that difficult to find, there's tons of evidence that people have looked at for years, but just in the wrong light. The hardest part is refining it all. I'm about halfway through.  
  
"But enough about me," Hermione said, shaking her head.  
  
"All right then," said Harry. "Ginny, how about you. You don't work at the Ministry. What do you do?"  
  
Ginny was caught slightly off guard. She paused a moment, trying to get a grip on her thoughts.  
  
"Oh, no. I work at Freewand Publishing. We publish textbooks."  
  
"Sounds...fascinating," said Harry, clearly not at all certain that textbooks were fascinating.  
  
"Don't get her started," Ron said.  
  
"No, really, it's not that bad! I work with Luna--"  
  
"Luna Lovegood? What's she doing there? I thought she'd go to work for The Quibbler!" Harry said. Hermione stood, and picked up Harry's bag. She proceeded to completely unpack it. She had obviously lost interest with any topic that concerned Luna Lovegood.  
  
"She wants experience in the publishing and editing world outside of the paper before she takes over for her father."  
  
Harry was taken aback slightly. It sounded like a fairly impressive and well-thought-out move for Luna.  
  
"Would be a shame if she actually learned something writing textbooks. Might put her paper out of business," Hermione muttered, folding Harry's shirts into the bureau. Ginny ignored the comment.  
  
"But it's actually interesting. I learn some things that we didn't learn at Hogwarts. Most of the textbooks we edit and publish have copies bought by Hogwarts students, but that doesn't necessarily mean the school uses them that year," Ginny continued. She saw she was quickly losing her audience and so she switched gears.  
  
"Speaking of Hogwarts, Harry, I've heard you've gotten a few owls from Dumbledore," Ginny said slyly. Ron, who had previously begun to nod off, snapped his head up and looked at Harry.  
  
"Is this true?" Ron asked eagerly.  
  
"How did you hear about that?" Harry asked Ginny, ignoring Ron. He wasn't sure yet if he wanted to tell Hermione and Ron about Dumbledore's offers. He knew they would encourage him to take the position, and he wasn't sure yet if it was what he wanted.  
  
"Neville gets around," Ginny said, grinning. "A girl on my floor was seeing him about a month ago."  
  
"That would be Marta," Harry supplied dully.  
  
"Very good!" Ginny said, impressed. "So, she was over there one time and saw a stack of letters, all addressed to you. Neville said they were from Dumbledore..." Ginny let the last part drift off, hoping Harry would finish for her. When he didn't, Hermione turned around from the bureau.  
  
"I'm not into idle gossip, but if it's true, Harry, I'd like to know what it's about,"Hermione said.  
  
"Thanks, Ginny," Harry muttered bitterly, shooting Ginny a look of disapproval. She caught it and appeared hurt. Ginny's sparkle died momentarily as scooted back across the bed until her back touched the wall. Harry regretted his bitter look, as he watched Ginny retreat.  
  
"Dumbledore has asked me to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts this year," Harry confessed. Hermione clapped her hands.  
  
"How wonderful! Aren't you going to take it?" Harry didn't respond to Hermione's excited outburst.  
  
"You're not, are you?" Ron said quietly. Harry shrugged. He stood and brushed off his slacks, trying to avoid the topic.  
  
"I just--don't want to right now."  
  
"But, Harry, you're perfect for--" Hermione started, but Ron cut her off.  
  
"It's all right, Hermione. Harry'll figure it out," Ron said, his voice low. He obviously agreed with Hermione, but could see that the topic was one Harry didn't wish to address at the moment. Harry shot his friend a look of gratitude. "C'mon, let's let Harry unpack." While Ron stepped across the room to take Hermione's hand, Ginny was off the bed and out the door. The couple followed her downstairs. Harry watched them go, sorry Ginny had not stayed for him to apologize. With a sigh, Harry turned to his nearly unpacked bag and began to finish Hermione's task. 


	4. A Fight

Chapter Four  
  
"I don't believe this!" Ron said, throwing his hands into the air in frustration.  
  
"He was bound to find out sooner or later!" Hermione said defensively. She knew this was a battle she was not about to win. Ginny sat on the bottom stair, watching the two with amusement. Ron and Hermione both stood in the family room, facing each other. Hermione held a letter in her hand, and Ron paced back and forth angrily.  
  
Harry was descending the staircase when he heard raised voices. He paused his trek to the dining room, listening to the angry tones downstairs. Looking down, Harry saw Ginny perched on the bottom step, her arms drawn around her knees as she watched the scene intently. He continued down the steps and joined her.  
  
"What have I missed?" he whispered. Ginny's head whirled to the side in surprise at Harry's presence. For a moment, she considered ignoring him. Then she noticed the apology and warmth behind his eyes and she smiled in return.  
  
"Hermione sent a note to Viktor about the engagement," she whispered, turning back to watch the scene unfolding in the opposite room.  
  
"Oh, not a good idea," Harry breathed. Ron had been jealous of Viktor since their fourth year in Hogwarts. Harry knew Hermione had maintained correspondence with Krum during their years in Hogwarts, but he--and, apparently Ron as well---was unaware that she had continued communication after graduation.  
  
"The whole engagement announcing is going terribly," Ginny said with delight. Harry thought she took a little too much enjoyment in Hermione's and Ron's disagreements. 'She needs to get out more,' he decided.  
  
"You told Harry without telling me you were going to!" Hermione said, pulling forth her defenses. Ron stopped pacing and faced her.  
  
"That's because Harry is our best friend. Collectively...ours," he said, motioning to Hermione and himself. "Krum is your friend, and, in my opinion, pretty low on the human scale anyway. Could we at least finish telling my family before we tell your pets?"  
  
"Now wait a minute. Just because you don't like Viktor doesn't mean you have any right to insult him like that. Please remember that I, your fiancée, am currently working to create an office to prevent pompous wizards like yourself from making asses out of themselves!" Hermione said hotly, waving the paper at Ron that Harry assumed to be a reply from Viktor.  
  
"I'm glad you intend to dedicate your life to protecting him," Ron said, stressing the last word bitterly.  
  
"Why can't you understand I have friends, too?" Hermione said, her voice beginning to break.  
  
"Oh, that's not fair," Harry whispered. Ginny turned to Harry inquisitively.  
  
"She's going to play the 'crying card,'" Harry explained. "Ron's a sucker when she cries."  
  
"I understand you have friends---I also wish you would respect the fact that I don't like him!"  
  
"You're so rude---" Hermione's voice regained its intensity as she flung the insult at Ron.  
  
"I'm rude? I'M rude?!" Ron threw up his hands again. "You don't see the way he looks at you, stares at you, can't take his eyes off of you, in FRONT OF ME. He virtually ignores my presence and spends all his energy trying to get you back. It's a little hard for me to take, Hermione. You can only ask so much of a man, and asking him to be friends with a guy who's constantly trying to take away your-your life, is asking TOO MUCH!" Ron swept his arm across his body, slicing the air in the manner of an umpire. Hermione was quiet for a moment. Ginny and Harry held their breath, anticipating her next words. The tense silence hung over the room; the only sound breaking it came from Crookshanks as he chased something upstairs. In the kitchen, a dish clattered in the sink and Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley desperately trying to shush the noise. He and Ginny weren't the only ones listening.  
  
Hermione took a step toward Ron and held out the letter from Viktor.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. She held the parchment out as a peace offering as she took another tentative step toward Ron. Hermione was stopped short when he rushed toward her and enveloped her in his arms. Ginny let out a tired sigh and turned to Harry.  
  
"Well, that's over. I suppose we'll have to wait until after dinner for the next one. Although I must say, it'll be few and far between before we see Ron come out on top again."  
  
"I thought the 'life' thing was a very nice touch," Harry said thoughtfully. Ginny nodded.  
  
"But they didn't solve anything. This will come up again when she wants to invite him to the wedding," said Ginny knowingly. Harry doubted her.  
  
"You really think she'll try it?"  
  
"Of course she will. Hermione has never understood the relationship she has with Krum. I mean, everyone else can see that Krum wants her, but she's just not interested anymore. She thinks it's a perfectly harmless relationship," said Ginny. She seemed to be well versed in the topic and Harry realized how close Ginny had become to Hermione.  
  
"But after what Ron told her--" Harry started, but Ginny shook her head.  
  
"She'll keep it low for a little while, but you know Hermione. She's stubborn and in a week or two she'll have forgotten all this and convinced herself once again that Krum is just a nice boy."  
  
"Ginny, you seem to be an experienced observer of their fights. Do you think it'll last?" Harry held his breath, hoping her reply was the right one.  
  
"Oh yeah. They enjoy making up way too much," she said, motioning over her shoulder but still not looking. Harry glanced over her shoulder into the room and saw Hermione and Ron making up with much enthusiasm and romantic looks. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"Lovely. Now how am I supposed to enjoy dinner?" 


	5. Decisions, Decisions

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! fae: to be honest, I've always thought of Mrs. Weasley to be somewhat similar to Mrs. Bennett, only more matronly and less vicious, but essentially somewhat silly! I am trying to finish this as quickly as possible, thanks to everyone for reading! Onward!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter Five  
  
"Ginny, what are you doing August tenth?" Hermione asked later that night as she and Ginny were going through the kitchen for late-night snacks. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to bed, and Ron and Harry had disappeared, although the famous Weasley clock-locater displayed that Ron was still somewhere in the house. Ginny pulled down a bag of cheese puffs from the top shelf of the pantry.  
  
"Oh, I dunno. Probably sleeping in until noon; maybe I'll shave Luna's head and then try for the new record of most donuts eaten in a half- hour. Why do you ask?" Ginny said casually.  
  
"Just thought I'd ask you to be my maid-of-honor. But sounds like you've got a pretty full day, maybe I'll just ask someone else...." Hermione said, opening a box of Triscuits to see what was left.  
  
"Serious?" Ginny squeaked. "You mean I can put anything I want into that drink of yours?"  
  
"I'd forgotten about that," Hermione said nervously. Ginny laughed at Hermione's pale expression.  
  
"Just testing you. Oh, Hermione, I'm so flattered!" Ginny couldn't resist and so she jumped over to hug Hermione.  
  
"I'm finally getting a sister, and to be honest, I'm really glad it's you," Ginny confessed.  
  
"Me too," Hermione said, returning the hug. Ginny pulled out of the embrace and held Hermione at arm's length for a moment. She appraised Hermione with a doubtful look.  
  
"Wait a minute. Are you just saying this so I won't make you watch the movie and let you work instead?"  
  
"Maybe," said Hermione with a sly grin. She laughed. "No, really, I promise not to even think about EEW tonight."  
  
"That means no lecturing on-screen characters about their 'unscrupulous, immoral acts of wizardry on humankind,' " Ginny said, quoting Hermione. Hermione nodded.  
  
"I promise."  
  
~*~  
The guys had retreated to Ron's old room, one of the more secluded ones in the Burrow. They knew the girls wanted their own tonight together, which in their opinion was just fine. If Ron and Harry had bothered to hang around, they would've been ignored anyway.  
  
"Still have the old Quiddich posters up, I see," Harry said with a smile, observing the old décor of Ron's room. The posters for Ron's favorite team still hung on the walls, players occasionally zooming in and out of the frames. Ron flopped onto his old bed, which coughed up a cloud of dust.  
  
"Yeah," Ron said absently, glancing at the posters without real interest.  
  
"So..." Harry said. He had a feeling Ron wanted to talk about something in particular.  
  
"So..." Ron responded, folding his arms behind his head and staring at the ceiling. Harry sat on the floor cross-legged, waiting for Ron to open up.  
  
"You really want that Dark Arts position, don't you?" Ron said carefully. Harry sighed.  
  
"Yes and no. I'm bored right now, but I keep telling myself everybody has to start somewhere. I don't want to quit this dream just because I have to wait a little while," Harry said, reaching for a rubber ball that had rolled underneath Ron's bed. He began bouncing it on the floor, trying to keep his hands--and mind--occupied.  
  
"You've never been an especially patient person," Ron said with a smile. Harry smirked. That was definitely true.  
  
"Which is why," Harry said, anxious for any excuse, "I wouldn't make a good teacher."  
  
"I don't know about that. You seemed to enjoy D.A.," Ron said, referring to Harry's previous teaching attempt. Harry shrugged. "I think the reason Dumbledore wants you is that you've had good and bad influences. I think we all know Quirrell, Umbridge, and Lockhart sucked. But you also know what it takes to be a good teacher, like Lupin or Mad-Eye--the real one," Ron stressed, knowing Harry would attempt to find an argument on that point.  
  
"I'd have to get some teaching licensure," Harry mumbled.  
  
"Which I'm sure Dumbledore could arrange to push through pretty quickly. Hell, if Snape managed to keep one all those years..." Ron said thoughtfully. "And it's not like you have to give up the Order. You just have to give up the Ministry. Which I would willingly give up, given the opportunity."  
  
"I know what you're doing."  
  
"Talking you into it? Is it really that obvious?" Ron said with a smirk. He sat up.  
  
"Look, Harry. We all know the reputation of that position. If you don't like it, that's fortunate because you won't be there more than a year anyway!" Harry laughed at Ron's comment. He thought for a minute, the smile still present.  
  
"Something else you didn't mention...mainly because, I think, none of us want to think about it," Harry said, slowly, "is that I'd have the opportunity to work with one of the greatest wizards of all time."  
  
"Yeah. That chance won't be around much longer," Ron said quietly. Dumbledore was indeed aging, though his youthful humor prevented it from being quite so obvious. But Harry and Ron both knew the man wasn't getting any younger, unfortunately. Harry was silent again, trying to recall past excuses he had previously told himself when turning down the job.  
  
"Think I should take it then?" Harry said cautiously but with a smile, knowing the answer. Ron leaned back against the wall.  
  
"Oh, I dunno," he said casually, sarcasm lightly edging his tone. "Maybe you should think about it a while longer." 


	6. Moving Right Along

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* No offense intended to anyone named Heather. Insult inspired by movie "the Heathers." Carry on, then!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter Six  
  
"Well, that said and done, I can count on you to be best man at the wedding, right?" Ron said, standing up. He stretched and brushed the low ceiling with his fingertips.  
  
"Oh, I guess," Harry said, as though it were a heavy inconvenience. "Who else could do it?"  
  
"Shut up," Ron laughed. "I'm sure Fred or George would offer, but they'd probably forget about it the day of."  
  
"Have you told the rest of your family?" Harry asked, still on the floor, bouncing the rubber ball. Ron thought a moment.  
  
"Got an owl from Bill this afternoon. Don't think Charlie's heard yet. Sent one to Percy and I expect to get a lengthy reply full of advice for a new head of a household...even though he can't manage to keep a girlfriend more than two weeks."  
  
"Hey," Harry said sharply. "He's just dedicated to his job."  
  
"Hell, Harry, you're not standing up for Percy, are you?" Ron looked at his friend in astonished disbelief. Then a smile crept over his face.  
  
"Oh, that's right," he said slowly. "Don't worry, Harry, I can't remember the last time you had a girl, either."  
  
"Shut up," Harry said. He threw the ball at Ron. But having lived in the Weasley household, Ron had developed good reflexes of defense. He ducked in time and caught the ball on its return bounce.  
  
"Nine months ago, Heather Willis," Harry reminded Ron.  
  
"With a name like Heather it had to work out. What happened?" Ron asked, feigning innocence. Harry laughed in spite of himself.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want. You've got security now."  
  
"Well, not until she actually says 'I will.' I've still got time to screw it up," he reassured Harry. Ron tossed the ball straight up and caught it again in his palm.  
  
"But you won't. Not if you know what's good for you," said Harry.  
  
"Speaking of knowing what's good for you..."  
  
"What about Hermione's parents? What have they said?" Harry said quickly. He sensed Ron turning the conversation back to probing Harry's personal life. Quite frankly, Harry was tired of talking about himself. Well, he was tired of talking about his personal mishaps anyway.  
  
"They're coming over for dinner next week." Ron was tossing the ball lightly, following its movement with his eyes. "They remember Mum and Dad somewhat from The Platform, but haven't ever really spoken. But as I was saying."  
  
"Really? Do your parents know her parents are dentists?" Harry asked, frantically trying to keep the conversation away from himself. He was pulling topics out of his arse and Ron knew it.  
  
"Nice try, Harry. Let's get down to the brass tacks, shall we?" Ron squatted down to Harry's level on the floor.  
  
"As opposed to gold? I'm not really fond of brass," Harry said. Ron gave him a look of curious amusement before he continued.  
  
"I don't believe I've ever seen you quite so nervous. And to think I haven't actually mentioned any names." Harry suddenly felt like he had just earned a starring role as a victim in a Mafia movie. Ron was tossing the ball in his palm, and Harry watched it as he tried to avoid Ron's eyes.  
  
"Who?" Harry asked, knowing full well "who."  
  
"Ginny. When are you going to admit you've got a thing for her?" Ron rolled the ball around on his palm and dropped it on the floor. He caught it easily and met Harry's nervous gaze.  
  
"Admit? You're crazy. I haven't got anything for your sister," Harry said, desperately trying to keep his voice even. Ron didn't respond.  
  
~If "a thing" isn't wishing I could pick up the phone and call her, or wondering how she's doing, or wishing I didn't think about her quite so much, then I definitely don't have "a thing" for her~ Harry thought.  
  
"I wish you'd stop tossing that damn ball," Harry said instead. Ron tried to keep from smiling. "You're making me feel like I've become the unsuspecting victim of 'The Godfather.' "  
  
"Maybe that's the general idea." Ron laughed and stood up. Harry followed suit.  
  
"Look, Harry, we all think it's great," Ron assured him, slapping him on the back. Harry decided to attempt to play the "cool" card once more.  
  
"Who has a thing for who? If I remember correctly, Ginny once had the crush on me. But c'mon, Ron, that was 10 years ago. Let it go, man." Harry cringed inwardly. This was not going well at all. How come everyone was better informed about him than he was?  
  
"Harry, it's OK, really. I'd rather she had a guy like you than the scum she's been dating. Guys with hair past their elbows and shirts that say 'wanna die.' I don't know if he's asking that question or stating a fact, but it creeps me out all the same," Ron said, shaking his head.  
  
"She's dating somebody?" Harry asked cautiously.  
~You might as well give up the act~ a little voice in his head was saying. ~Everyone else seems to know but you~  
  
"Ah, now you're interested," said Ron. Apparently, so were the members of the Quiddich team. Harry noticed a sudden lack of movement in the posters and pictures, and as he glanced around the room he noticed many of the players had stopped their activities. They were watching Harry and Ron with rapt attention. Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly with one hand.  
  
"Look, I'm not saying you need to go down and propose right now," Ron said, his tone gentler and more serious. "But I'm saying you don't have to back off. She's a big girl now and I wouldn't think it weird at all.  
"You spent a lot of time gabbing with her at Mum and Dad's anniversary party last May, even though you had brought Heather---which, I might add likely doomed the relationship which ended a month later, correct? You've always carefully asked about 'the family' every time we see each other, but you don't actually look interested until I mention Ginny's name. I've never mentioned anything about her dating blokes because I thought that would make you think she was available. But now I see I should've because it would spark your competitive streak," Ron said. By this time he had regained his teasing attitude and he laughed.  
  
"Besides, I had to say something because you probably never would have. I'm just letting you know, none of us would think it's weird and none of us would disapprove. Alright?" Ron asked, slapping Harry on the back once more. Harry shook his head in disbelief. He wished the Quiddich players would go back to their practicing.  
  
"Alright," he said finally. "But so help me, if you tell Hermione--"  
  
"Jeez, Harry, who do you think wanted me to have this conversation?" 


	7. Did someone say death wish?

A/N: I am really posting this as quickly as possible. Thank you for being so patient. The internet is being very weird for me (sometimes it's working, sometimes it's not) so my sincerest apologies if these chapters are long time coming!!! Thanks for all the great reviews!  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Ginny yawned as the closing credits rolled across the screen.  
  
"See, wasn't that a good movie?" Hermione said with a sigh. Ginny rubbed her eyes and yawned again.  
  
"Hermione, it was a documentary. A documentary about the diminishing population of fig trees," Ginny said, trying to muster up some disgust through her exhaustion.  
  
"Not 'fig trees.' Fihrees, which are trees that--"  
  
"Hermione, are you CRAZY? I just sat through 2 hours of that and you're about to lecture me on the exact same topic? Do you even WANT to live to see your wedding?" Ginny asked, her energy spiking as she realized she might have to fight Hermione to keep her from turning on another documentary.  
  
Hermione blushed. "Sorry."  
  
Ginny yawned again and shook her head in disbelief. Hermione was something else.  
  
"But speaking for death wishes, are you still seeing that one guy-- Artemis?" Hermione said not too subtly.  
  
"Antius," Ginny corrected her. "Oh no, Antius. I forgot!" Ginny ran out of the room. Hermione heard her in the next room over, rummaging through a desk.  
  
"So, you are still seeing that guy," Hermione said, when Ginny returned with a scrap of paper. Ginny shrugged and sat down.  
  
"Hey, it keeps life interesting."  
  
"Ginny, he's crazy. His idea of fun is figuring out a potion that'll make him sprout wings--and then leaping off the roof whether he grew them or not." Hermione switched off the TV and turned her attention to the redhead beside her. Ginny was scribbling furiously on the piece of paper.  
  
"Look, he's not even around at the moment. I told him I'd write while he was in Thailand. I figured he'd be lonely."  
  
"I'm sure the hospital in Thailand has plenty of other patients to keep him company," Hermione said sourly. Ginny rolled her eyes.  
  
"Honestly, Hermione, you act like he has a death wish."  
  
"He does, Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed. Ginny ignored her and gave a shrill whistle. Waiting quietly in the room, the girls could hear a frantic fluttering begin at the top of the house. Moments later, Pigwidgeon was flapping frenetically around the room.  
  
"Taught him that," Ginny said proudly. She attached the note to Pig, along with brief instructions. Pig hooted and flew out the window.  
  
"You could do a lot better than Antius," Hermione continued, crossing her arms as she stared at Ginny. "What do you really know about him anyway?"  
  
Ginny sighed. She'd had this battle with Ron before. And Mum. And Dad. She was sure that if the rest of the family knew, they'd be down her throat as well. Harry, too.  
  
"I know that he...he works at The Corner Pub," Ginny said, trying to wave off that last thought of Harry. Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"I could figure that out by looking at his tax returns, Ginny. I mean, what do you KNOW about him?"  
  
"He...hates peaches," Ginny said proudly. "Something to do with his childhood, I think."  
  
"Oh forgive me. I see you have a solid, healthy relationship. Well, just ignore my advice. I'm sure one day you guys will get around to talking about vegetables. But then, we don't want to rush anything!" Hermione said sarcastically.  
  
"What do you care anyway?" Ginny retorted. She turned on her defenses, which meant ignoring Hermione's questions and coming up with a few of her own. "Do you think everyone wants to be married at 22? I'm still young, Hermione. And I'm not the only person my age who isn't married!"  
  
"I didn't say--" Hermione started, but Ginny's voice rolled over her. She was uncomfortable talking about her relationship with Antius, mostly because she didn't understand it herself.  
  
"Take Harry for example! He's still single and does it bother him?" Ginny said loudly. One of Hermione's eyebrows shot toward her hairline.  
  
"Doesn't it?" she asked calmly. Surprised that Hermione had turned the tables on what Ginny had thought was a rhetorical question, Ginny felt her temper rise.  
  
"I'm not going to get into Harry's love life with you, Hermione. Wasn't it you who said earlier you weren't into idle gossip?" Ginny retorted mimicking Hermione's complacent crossed-arm pose.  
  
"You brought it up!" Hermione said with a slight smile. "You were the one who dragged Harry's name into this."  
  
Ginny was really losing her temper now, but mostly at herself. She hated how Hermione played this game: staying cool and collected as if she had all the answers, and it only made Ginny lash out more. Ginny also mentally kicked herself for bringing up Harry. He had already gotten mad at her once that day and just within an hour of his arrival. She really didn't need to add any more strikes against herself.  
  
"Fine." Ginny sank back against the couch with a pout.  
  
"Fine," Hermione said and settled into the cushions. Ginny watched her carefully, suspicious of the gears she could practically hear turning in Hermione's brain.  
  
"Why do you care?" Ginny said sourly. The words flew out of her mouth before she had a chance to think about it. Hermione let the tone roll off her back and she merely shrugged.  
  
"Care about what?" Hermione yawned and began cleaning up their mess of snacks.  
  
"Never mind," said Ginny sharply. She remained on the couch sulking as she watched Hermione clean. Various thoughts raced through her mind, most of them sour and immature, consisting of "It's not fair" and "No one understands." One thought occurred to her that made all the others suddenly pause their ranting.  
  
~ Harry would understand, ~ she thought. Ginny wasn't quite sure what made her think so, but she stood anyway.  
  
"Well, if you're done crucifying me, I'm going to bed now," Ginny said, loud than necessary. Hermione didn't look up.  
  
"Alright. See you in the morning," she responded distractedly. Ginny marched out of the room, not bothering to take her bag of cheese puffs with her.  
  
Once on the stairs, Ginny paused. The best place to look for Harry would be his "temporary residence," otherwise known as Fred and George's old room. Ginny felt suddenly awkward as she realized how late it was. Then she remembered her annoyance at Hermione and she started down the stairs.  
  
She knocked on Harry's door, and heard a muffled response. Taking it as a welcome, she opened the door a crack.  
  
"Harry?" Her voice obviously startled Harry, for he gave a start, and Ginny heard a THUD reverberate through the room. She opened the door wider and saw Harry deep in the closet, boxes pushed into the room. Some were opened, and some were shivering as though they were ready to explode if someone didn't attend to them.  
  
"What are you doing?" Ginny asked, closing the door behind her as Harry's swear words increased in volume. His head peered around the closet door, glasses slightly askew.  
  
"Oh, Ginny. I thought you were Ron. Sorry," he apologized. Ginny took a few steps forward, glancing into the closet.  
  
"What are you doing?" she repeated.  
  
"Oh! Looking for some sheets. The ones on the bed were, um, well, old." Harry held up the yellowed sheet that was more holes than fabric. Ginny blushed.  
  
"Sorry," she said, grabbing the sheets. "Mum must've forgot she didn't change them."  
  
"No problem," said Harry brightly, standing up. He remembered to duck as he stood this time and narrowly avoided hitting the overhead shelf again. Ginny pointed to a box on the shelf, which was slightly out of her reach.  
  
"That one," she said. Harry obliged, and pulled it down. Ginny pulled out a set of sheets. The bright blue color had faded somewhat, and the elastic on the fitted sheet was stretched, but it was certainly an improvement.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said, as Ginny stuffed the old sheets back into the box. She took the new ones from Harry.  
  
"Here, let me. You're our guest," she reminded him as Harry began to object. He obeyed and sat on the opposite bed while Ginny made the other.  
  
"So, what did you need?" Harry asked. He found he enjoyed watching her brush her hair out of her face for it only to fall forward again.  
  
"What?" Ginny stood. "Oh, yeah. You need to put your friends on a leash."  
  
"What does that mean?" Harry asked as she gave a tug to the fitted sheet. Having forgotten that the elastic was worn, Ginny sighed in exasperation as the sheet came off the bed again.  
  
"It means," she said, going around to the other side and replacing the sheet, "that Hermione was getting all over my personal life. And lecturing me."  
  
"Well, that comes with the territory of being Hermione. When you're so much more educated than everyone else, it's a crime not to share it," Harry said with a grin. Ginny snorted.  
  
"Yeah, well, I've had enough on that subject, but she still didn't need to get all matronly," Ginny said tautly.  
  
"I understand. Ron decided to provide philosophical insight into my life tonight, too," Harry said with a sigh.  
  
"Really? Maybe if we gang up on them, they'll quit. I take Ron, you take Hermione."  
  
"No way!" Harry laughed. "You take Hermione. I don't have a death wish!"  
  
"What IS it with you people and death wishes?" Ginny said in exasperation.  
  
"Not following," Harry said. Ginny was clearly upset about something. But the fact that she had come to him to vent her frustration was enthralling. Not that she had much choice this time of night, but still...  
  
"Oh, Ron and Hermione, and Mum and Dad all claim Antius has a 'death wish.' He just lives on the edge, that's all! OK, so he makes me a little nervous, sometimes, but isn't that what keeps a relationship interesting? Is it so wrong to have a little spontaneity?" Ginny tucked the sheet under the mattress viciously. Harry's heart sunk as he realized Antius was a bit more than a friend.  
  
"Whoa, a 'death wish?' Sure, spontaneity is great, but not insanity, Ginny," Harry said carefully. Ginny glared at him.  
  
"You don't know him."  
  
"With all due respect, wouldn't something tip you off if your family and friends don't like him? They only want what's best for you," Harry said. This was not going well, he could tell by the tight expression on Ginny's face. She clearly did not come expecting another lecture.  
  
"I'm not going to lecture you again," Harry said smoothly. "But I'm just suggesting that maybe you look at the relationship from their point of view. And if you don't like what you see..." Harry shrugged as punctuation.  
  
"Well, what about you? I mean, are you really qualified to be giving out love advice? When was the last time you had a girlfriend? Maybe I should talk to Neville," Ginny said sharply. Harry didn't let on that she'd stung him.  
  
"You'd probably end up being seduced," he said, ignoring her previous words. "I'm done lecturing, I promise."  
  
Ginny was still angry that Harry couldn't be a bit more sympathetic. Why wasn't anyone saying, "Well if you like him, he must be some lucky guy" or "Sometimes people are hard to get close to, but I'm glad you can see the good in this guy"?  
  
"Didn't you get tired of Ron lecturing you?" she said angrily. Harry shrugged.  
  
"It wasn't a lecture so much as he simply cornered me."  
  
"Into what?"  
  
"Teaching next year."  
  
"Really?" Ginny stopped arranging the bed to look at Harry. She grinned. "That's great!"  
  
"Yeah, I'm getting a little excited about it myself," Harry said, realizing it was true.  
  
"Well you've got time to prepare. School doesn't start until August, so you've got four months to get your act together!" Ginny's demeanor had lightened by Harry's confession. She finished the bed and took a step back.  
  
"Better?"  
  
"Much," Harry said, not bothering to look at the bed. He wished he could come up with some excuse to be near her, to touch her.  
  
~ Damn it, if only she were only mad enough to cry, ~ he thought for one crazy moment. He wished Ron hadn't said anything about Ginny. Now that he was more aware of it, Harry was more conscious about his actions around Ginny. And more conscious of her actions as well.  
  
"Is that all you and Ron talked about?" Ginny asked. She couldn't help it if she was naturally nosy...  
  
"Um...not quite. We talked about my love life, too," Harry confessed nervously. He followed that comment with awkward silence. He had a feeling Ginny wanted him to continue, but he didn't feel like lying, and knew that he wasn't ready to tell her, either.  
  
"They just can't mind their own business. I bet he tried setting you up with a girl, didn't he?" Ginny said, her eyes narrowing.  
  
"Well, yes and no...just kind of hinted at it," Harry said, still sitting on the bed. He clenched his hands into fists, fearful of what turn the conversation may take. Ginny shook her head and muttered under her breath.  
  
"Well, I say good for you, Harry. You should live whatever way you want and don't let them pressure you. Just because you happen to like your life doesn't mean there's anything wrong with it," Ginny said sternly. She closed the closet doors and then sat by Harry on the bed. They both stared straight ahead; Ginny musing, Harry sweating.  
  
"Not quite," Harry said. He wanted to kick himself. If he agreed with her, she'd just let it lie. Why did he open his stupid mouth?  
  
"Oh." Ginny said. She turned to Harry. "Well, that still doesn't mean you have to give in to him. I know Ron thinks he's doing something nice, but it's really just a slap in the face."  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, remembering the nervous energy he had felt when Ron was holding his own modest form of The Inquisition. He certainly would have preferred a slap in the face to the agonizing tension then...and now.  
  
"Well, thanks for letting me rant, I guess," Ginny said with semi- smile, and stood. "G'night, Harry." Ginny bent down and gave Harry a kiss goodnight on the cheek. She turned to go and Harry grabbed her hand. He be damned if he let her keep that boyfriend. Ginny stopped and turned to face Harry again.  
  
"Ginny, just...just think about what I said, OK?" Ginny took a breath, and Harry thought she might blow him off again. Then she smiled.  
  
"OK. Good-night." Harry released her and she left the room, closing the door behind her. 


	8. One step in the right direction

Chapter Eight  
  
After spending the weekend at the Burrows, Harry returned to life on Hardaman Road. Neville had managed to trash the flat thoroughly in the three days Harry was gone. Hedwig's cage had been shoved into a corner in Harry's room, and she glared at him irritably when he opened the door. She clacked her beak a few times to let him know just exactly what she thought of his leaving her with Neville, and then turned around to face the wall and sulk. Harry returned to the kitchen, where he saw two messages waited for him from Dumbledore. They were pretty much the same as the previous seventeen. Started out quite jovially, with small talk concerning the latest events at Hogwarts and Dumbledore's plans to get away after the term was over; the last line including the patterned statement about the unfortunate lack of a Defense teacher and if Harry could refer any Aurors that might be interested. Harry smiled and put the latest message aside, intending to finally respond.  
  
"Neville, how did you manage this?" Harry asked, motioning to the disheveled room. Neville had just stumbled into the kitchen, blinking against the sunlight filtering through the window. He squinted at Harry and began motioning for Harry to "keep it down."  
  
"I've got a girl in the back room," Neville said hoarsely, after taking a swig from the juice carton.  
  
"Good Lord, Neville. On a weekday? How many people were here yesterday?" Harry said in disbelief. Harry glanced at his watch, knowing he had to be at the Ministry soon. No doubt Neville had taken advantage of the holiday weekend and thoroughly enjoyed himself. Neville grinned.  
  
"Off hand, I'd wager about thirty from Saturday to Monday night. But not all at the same time, mind you," he said mischievously, taking another swig. Harry laughed, and Neville put a finger to his lips. Harry obliged and chuckled quietly. Neville certainly enjoyed life.  
  
"Well, I've got to get going, and so've you. Is she even a witch?" Harry asked in undertones. Neville shrugged.  
  
"Subject never came up," Neville responded innocently. Harry laughed and stuffed one of Dumbledore's letters into his pocket.  
  
He left the house, wondering at Neville's stamina. For someone who could barely remember when he last tied his shoes, Neville took chances "dating" so many girls. Harry wondered if he should ask the lad to throw a few his way. He reckoned maybe he could stimulate Ginny's competitive side, too.  
  
"Morning, Harry!" Tonks said brightly, leaning around his cubicle. Tonks was one of the top Aurors now, despite her keen ability to break anything she came into contact with. In fact, as she leaned around Harry's cubicle, she put a hand atop the edge, and sent three of his pictures that had been pinned to the inside, sweeping neatly to the floor.  
"Oops," she said, with a grin and picked them up. "Better get that," she said, pointing to the pushpins. "I'd rather not take any chances."  
  
Harry picked up the pins and set them on his desk beside some paperwork. He'd put the pictures back up when Tonks wasn't around.  
  
Tonks didn't look a day older than the day Harry first met her seven years ago; which is no surprise for a girl who could change her appearance at will. She wasn't much older than Harry, which showed in her constant enthusiasm. Harry always had a sneaky suspicion she'd get along famously with George or Fred, but he never said anything. He knew Tonks had a crush on Lupin, but because of the slight age gap and Lupin's tendency to be a loner, she had never said anything.  
  
"Going to the Quiddich game on Friday, Harry?" Tonks asked. Harry swiveled around in his chair to face her. This week, Tonks had decided to go orange for the hair. Which fit well for the event on Friday when they would see the Chudley Cannons.  
  
"Forgot about that. Yeah, I suppose. Anyone not going?" Harry asked. The Aurors always got together once a month for a recreational activity. This Friday they were going to see the much-disputed match between the Cannons and Tornados. It was an "on" year again for the Tornados and they were causing quite a stir among Quiddich fans. In the previous match between the two teams Cannons had come out on top, but barely. Talk around town was that the Tornados were determined to win once and for all.  
  
"Moody, of course," Tonks said, rolling her eyes. "You know we aren't all on 'constant vigilance' if everyone's at the match. I think Shacklebolt has a Department meeting, too. Shame since he missed last month," Tonks added, referring to Kingsley Shacklebolt, Chief Auror.  
  
Last month, the Aurors had held a Quiddich match, dividing the office up into two teams. Harry, of course, played seeker for his team. Tonks had been a Chaser on his team, although she had an uncanny ability to repeatedly run into the Bludgers. She was known as key player on the opposite team, actually. Marva Ellwood had been seeker for the opposing team and, Harry, had to admit, had given him a run for his money. It was always more fun to play against a good seeker and she had presented herself as quite a challenge. She revealed to Harry after the game that after graduating from Hogwarts she had been accepted onto the Puddlemere United team, but quit after a year because she never got to play in a match. Nevertheless, Harry had managed to catch the Snitch out from under her nose and afterward she had always said hi to him in the office. Harry was appreciative for his new respect, as Apprentices got very little respect or attention around Aurors' Headquarters.  
  
"Great," Tonks said, and started to walk away. Harry remembered the message from Dumbledore in his pocket.  
  
"Hold up a minute, Tonks," he said, pulling the letter out of his robes. "Can I ask you something?"  
  
"Sure, Harry," she responded, folding her arms and placing them atop his cubicle.  
  
"What would-I mean, how could I..what would Shacklebolt say if I gave him a notice?" Harry said hesitantly. He wasn't sure what people would think knowing he'd been an Auror, really an Apprentice, for two years and was already quitting.  
  
"What kind of notice?" Tonks asked. Harry held out the letter, and Tonks reached for it.  
  
"Dumbledore has been sending me these letters nearly all year," Harry said. He watched as Tonks' eyes roamed back and forth, scanning the lines. "He wants me for the Defense position, I think."  
  
When Tonks reached the end of the letter, she grinned and folded it again. Harry took it back, anxious to hear her comments.  
  
"Dumbledore's not one to plead, but that's a pretty strong hint, I'd say. And he's been sending them all year?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, looking at the message uncertainly. "This one's like all the others: tidbits of events around the school, updates on some of the teachers, news about himself, although that's few and far between. And then that last line."  
  
"I see," Tonks said, waiting for Harry to continue.  
  
"I talked to Ron about it this weekend, and he wants me to do it. In fact, everyone I've told wants me to-Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, Ginny." Tonks astutely noticed that Harry had not grouped Ginny with "the Weasleys." "I think Neville wants me to take it, too, but he hasn't said as much."  
  
"What do you think?" Tonks asked seriously. Harry took a deep breath.  
  
"I think I want to do it. I kept avoiding it because I knew how it would look, being an Auror for 2 years and quitting."  
  
"You're not quitting. You're taking a advantage of a superior job opportunity," Tonks said. Harry looked at her doubtfully. "Well, I think it is," she said firmly.  
  
"I love what we do here, I more love the Order," she said. Although Voldemort had been "taken care of," there was still a lot of cleaning to do in reference to the Death Eaters. They hadn't vanished so easily this time and the Order had decided to remain until things were running smoother. "But if I said that teaching at Hogwarts isn't a great opportunity, I'd be bluffing.  
  
"So here you are, staring at great career move. I say yes...plus, you're bored here," she said, her tone lighter. Harry nodded sheepishly.  
  
"It's all right. Kingsley wondered if you had the patience for Paperworks," Tonks said, referring to the nickname Apprentices received. The first three years of every Aurors's career begins with an Apprenticeship, which consists mainly of doing paperwork for one's superiors. "But he knew it wouldn't be fair to start you higher. Apprentices are valuable, Harry, but you just don't know it until you're on the opposite end of the scale.  
  
"You can still--well, we'll talk about that later," Tonks said. Harry knew she was referring to the Order, and he nodded. She tapped the top of the cubicle wall with her knuckles as she continued.  
  
"Go ahead and give Shacklebolt the heads up," she said. "You won't have to leave for some time, but it gives you the option of leaving in June if you'd like to go down to the school early and get your bearings." Tonks grinned.  
  
"I'll miss having you around, but we'll see each other. Besides, you'll be doing plenty of undercover recruiting for us down at the school," Tonks finished with a wink. Harry smiled and lifted his hand as she walked away with a wave. He was glad at least one person in the office would be supportive. Because he was only an Apprentice, he had a hard time seeing them throw a fit at his notice, but he knew a few of his superiors would be slightly disappointed.  
  
"Alright, Dumbledore, you old hound," Harry said with a smile. He turned back around to his desk and pulled out a sheaf of paper.  
  
~Dumbledore,  
Thanks for your many notes keeping me updated on the progress and happenings around good old Hogwarts. It'll all be useful, I'm sure, for when I return in the fall to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. That is, if you'll have me. Give Professor McGonagall my best regards.  
Best wishes,  
Harry~ 


	9. The Engagement Party

Chapter Nine  
  
The wintry month of March plodded on as Harry trudged to work each day admitting to himself he was looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. He heard from Ron occasionally, who was supplying Harry with little tidbits about the engagement process that Hermione might not exactly want to hear. Harry sympathized with his friend, but took mental notes for the future.  
  
It wasn't until early April that anyone decided to throw an engagement party. Harry assumed it was the Weasley's doing as it was being held at the Burrow, a house that would be difficult to explain to Muggles. He quickly sent back a reply affirming his presence, and then found that the days seemed to drag by as he anxiously waited for Saturday to arrive.  
  
Harry realized Friday night that gifts might be expected, and he unfortunately had very little spending cash. He resorted to flowers again. He intended to buy only one, to emphasize the fact that they were in recognition of the engagement, but Harry found himself arriving back at home with two. Luckily, Neville was absent and Harry didn't have to face his roommate's inquisitive gaze over his coming home with two bouquets.  
  
Glancing at the clock, Harry realized he was going to be late, so he quickly trimmed the flowers and apparated to the Burrow. He had appeared a few feet away from the house, so he could knock and not surprise anyone inside. Harry raised his hand to knock lightly, but the door was thrown open before he made contact with the wood.  
  
"Hey, Harry, come in," Ron said in a low tone. Harry followed his instructions, and noticed a variety of people assorted inside the house. Most of them were talking and laughing loudly, holding cups of punch.  
  
"Uh, well, these are for Hermione," Harry said, as Ron started to motion him away from the crowd.  
  
"Put them away, you can see her later," Ron hissed, and led Harry to the backyard. Once outside, Ron let out a loud sigh of relief.  
  
"I couldn't take anymore questions. All these people are asking where we're going to live, when the wedding is, where the honeymoon is! The same questions over and over and over! Why do you have two bouquets?" Ron said, suddenly noticing that Harry clutched two bunches of flowers in his hand. Harry glanced down at his fist.  
  
"In case I dropped one. Never can be too sure, you know," he said quickly. Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
"Ginny's hiding out somewhere upstairs. You can get her, later, too. I can't wait for this thing to be done!" Ron shook his head and glanced toward the house. He ducked behind a tree, as a few people moved in front of the window.  
  
"I don't even KNOW half these people," Ron hissed from his stakeout behind the tree. "And now they'll have to come to the wedding because they came to the party."  
  
"Not if you elope," Harry suggested. He glanced toward the window, realizing to others it looked as though he were talking to the tree.  
  
"Harry, are you mad? Mum would kill me!" Ron sighed and leaned his head against the trunk. "It's most of Mum's old friends. Barely any guys in there. Just trust me, it's safer out here."  
  
Both froze as they heard the back door swing open. Ron glanced nervously at Harry, and Harry's gaze traveled to the source of the noise.  
  
"It's only Hermione," Harry whispered.  
  
"Be careful, it might be a decoy," Ron warned. Harry rolled his eyes as Ron ducked back behind the tree.  
  
"Harry, what are you doing out here?" Hermione asked, giving Harry a hug and a smile. Harry held out a bundle of flowers awkwardly.  
  
"Congrats, again," he said. Hermione took the flowers and her smile quickly faded as she realized that Harry seemed to be alone.  
  
"Who's out here with you?"  
  
"Er--Tasha," Harry said, slapping the trunk of the tree lightly. "Yeah, she and I go way back."  
  
"Even I'm not gonna buy that," said Ron, coming out from behind the tree. Hermione sighed in relief.  
  
"Thank heaven, I thought he was serious," she said. Ron stared at her in disbelief.  
  
"You need more help than I thought."  
  
"What are you two doing out here?" Hermione asked, glancing over her shoulder. A loud burst of laughter came from the women standing by the window.  
  
"Nothing," the boys said in unison. Hermione's silence said she didn't believe them.  
  
"It was Ron's idea," Harry said quickly. "I hadn't even knocked on the door before he dragged me through the house and back here."  
  
"I'm stifling in there," Ron whined. Hermione chose to ignore him and instead focused on Harry's second batch of flowers.  
  
"Who are those for?" she asked, pointing to his hand.  
  
"Ginny," Ron said before Harry could respond.  
  
"Oh she's upstairs," Hermione said. "Hiding in her room, I think. Honestly, you Weasleys. You'd think growing up with six other siblings, you'd be used to a crowd."  
  
"We're used to crowds of screwballs, not old biddies," Ron said. Harry laughed, but caught Hermione's eye and abruptly stopped.  
  
"Why don't you go give Ginny her flowers?" Hermione said. Harry glanced at Ron, wondering if it was safe to leave him alone. Ron nodded.  
  
"Alright. Where is she again?"  
  
"Her room is directly under my old one," Ron said, pointing to the top of the house. Harry took deep breath.  
  
"Right," he said. "I'm going in." Harry squared his shoulders and set off towards the house. Though he had faced many dangerous situations in his life, he couldn't help but admit that his nerves of steel weakened somewhat at the thought of being hounded by a houseful of middle-aged, giddy women.  
  
Inside, the house was indeed somewhat of a zoo, if the Burrow could get anymore zoo-like. Women were standing everywhere in small and large groups, chattering. Some looked solemn as they discussed Edith Brown's latest medical diagnosis, and others laughed hysterically at the latest gossip.  
  
"Harry! Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley pushed through the crowd and grasped Harry firmly by the shoulder. "Why don't you come this way and I'll get you some punch. Where did Ron go?" Mrs. Weasley started scanning the crowds.  
  
"Not now, thanks, Mrs. Weasley. I-er-I left something in my room the other night I'd like to get while I'm still thinking about it," Harry shouted as they walked past some ladies laughing and telling a hysterical story about what Mrs. Kellar found her son, Archie, doing to the cat yesterday.  
  
"Oh yes, of course, dear! Go right ahead!" Mrs. Weasley released him with a grin and jumped into the conversation about little Archie Kellar. In all the hubbub, Mrs. Weasley had forgotten it had been over a month since Harry had visited. He was glad the weak excuse flew past her and he bolted.  
  
Grateful for the clean get-away, Harry took the stairs two at a time, leaving the distant rumble of voices below him. It seemed like a different house upstairs, with the only sound being Harry and the floorboards creaking beneath him. On the third floor, he passed Crookshanks who lifted his head and opened one lazy eye in Harry's direction. The feline chirped a hello and returned to his nap.  
  
Ginny's door was open when Harry reached it, but he knocked and stepped over the threshold. Ginny was lying on her bed, reading a book. She was clearly engrossed in it, one corner of her bookmark in her mouth as she nibbled it anxiously. She didn't seem to hear Harry until he spoke.  
  
"Can I come in?" he asked. Ginny looked up from her book with a start.  
  
"Hi, Harry. Sure. I was just escaping for a bit," she said with a guilty grin. Ginny placed her bookmark in the book and closed it quietly.  
  
"You and Ron both," Harry said. "These are for you." Ginny looked dubiously at the flowers Harry offered her.

"Don't worry," Harry assured her. "They're Allergen-free charmed."  
  
"Really? Making up for last time, eh?" Ginny teased, taking the flowers with a laugh.  
  
"You accused me of not thinking of you. And I just wanted you to know that wasn't true," Harry said softly. Ginny looked up at him, her eyes twinkling and mind working furiously.  
  
"Thanks," she said with genuine gratitude. Harry took the chair from Ginny's desk and turned it around to face her.  
  
"So how's it going?"  
  
"You mean, 'so did you take my advice?'" Ginny asked, smiling. Harry shrugged.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well," Ginny said, taking a deep breath. "I did. I went back to my room and really thought about what you suggested, looking at the relationship from a more objective viewpoint. And well.....I broke up with him. Not that we were really going out, anyway, I mean he is in Thailand," Ginny added quickly. Harry made a mental note that there wouldn't likely be any boyfriend coming back to woo her.  
  
"Something Hermione said made me think, too. I didn't really know anything about him. His ambitions--if he has any--or his dreams or his opinions on anything, really. I remember for his birthday, I gave him two tickets for this concert for a Muggle band he really liked. When the concert rolled around, he didn't even take me. He took one of his friends," Ginny said thoughtfully. She frowned and glanced down at her pillow.  
  
"And at Mum and Dad's anniversary party, I didn't even talk to him. He was there, but you wouldn't have guessed by the fact we didn't even see each other. When you did that to Heather, she broke up with you," Ginny stated. Harry blushed slightly.

"Gee, thanks," he retorted. Ginny grinned and continued.

"But Antius didn't even seem to care. He didn't care," she repeated. Ginny let out a sigh. "And I realized, thinking about it all, that I tried to act like I thought it was a real relationship, but deep down I knew it wasn't. He just kept me around for the occasional handout or favor, and I kept him around for entertainment."  
  
"Have you told anyone you broke up with him?" Harry said, trying to keep his voice low. It would probably be a tad inappropriate if he took a victory lap around the room. Ginny shook her head.  
  
"I'm not ready for the 'I told you so,' from Hermione. And Mum would be so happy; she'd probably throw a party. No, they'll figure it out."  
  
"I think Hermione would be a little more understanding," Harry said, and Ginny gave him a doubtful look.  
  
"OK, OK, maybe not," Harry said laughing. Ginny's gaze traveled from her pillow to the flowers and she reached out a hand to fondle the petal of a Black-eyed Susan.  
  
"They're real," Harry said, amused. Ginny looked up and smiled.  
  
"I've just never gotten flowers before," she said.  
  
"Never?"  
  
"Well, for graduation. And my sixteenth birthday. But that's different." Ginny's voice was soft and distant, and it reminded Harry of Luna's dreamy, thoughtful demeanor. He coughed quickly, trying to bring Ginny out of her reverie.  
  
"So," she said, brought back to reality. "You're going to be best man, right?"  
  
"Yeah. I mean, let's face it, Ron didn't have much choice. I am the best after all," Harry said, pretending to inspect his nails superiorly. Ginny laughed.  
  
"Keep telling yourself that. Well, I am maid-of-honor, so that means we get to develop their poison, I mean, potion," Ginny laughed.  
  
"I'm sorry?" Harry hadn't heard about the wedding elixir, and was quite confused by Ginny's comment. Ginny started to speak, but Harry held up a hand. He stood, turned the chair around and sat in it, his arms on the back of the chair. "Proceed."  
  
"Now that you're comfortable, I will. Instead of having speeches, like at a Muggle wedding, wizards make this potion for the wedding couple. It has different things in it, which are explained at the reception, when the couple drinks it. But the maid-of-honor and the best man add one last ingredient, that's kind of.....personal, you know?"  
  
"And we have to make this?" Harry said with concern. He was not a good cook, proven by his ineptitude at potions.  
  
"It's not hard, I promise," Ginny said. "It's just not very--appealing." Harry could tell by the look of disgust on her face, she wasn't looking forward to it.  
  
"But we'll need to get together to talk about it. The wedding is August 10th, did Hermione tell you that?" Ginny said, shaking off her disgust.  
  
"No," he said in surprise. "Glad someone did. That's kind of a short engagement, isn't it?"  
  
"They've been dating for awhile," Ginny shrugged. "Anyway, I guess, what days are good for you? Weekends? Weekdays? Lunch?"  
  
"For what?" Harry asked.  
  
"For meeting. Remember, we have to do this elixir thing? Do you have problems with short term memory?" Ginny teased.  
  
"Oh. Not that I know of. I guess.....weekends are good. Although my lunch hour would be good, too," Harry said, trying to recall any long-term plans he had made for the month.  
  
"_Accio Calendar_!" Ginny said, flicking her wand. Her daybook organizer came around the corner and flying through the door into her waiting hands. She started flipping through it, trailing her finger down the pages, looking for openings.  
  
"I'm either working overtime or have plans with Luna for the next week," Ginny said, still flipping pages. Harry watched as she finally lit upon an empty day.  
  
"There! April 22! It's a Thursday," Ginny said. "I could meet you for lunch. My building is just outside of London, so it wouldn't be a problem. Where do you want to meet?"  
  
"Lyle Anderson's Grill," Harry said, naming his favorite nearby restaurant. Ginny frowned.  
  
"Is that a Muggle restaurant?" She asked with a hint of admonishment. Harry smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Yeah. But they have great sandwiches." Ginny rolled her eyes.  
  
"Fine, I'll figure something out. Maybe Apparate into a stall in the lavatory," she mumbled, pulling a pencil out of the planner and scribbling on April 22. Harry glanced over her shoulder to see "Lunch with Harry (L.Anderson's)" floating in the 1pm slot.  
  
"Great," said Ginny, slamming the planner shut, "it's a date." The word took Harry by surprise, and he sat up quickly in his chair. He scrambled to his feet, knocking over two textbooks lying on her desk. He stooped to pick them up and was graciously knocked on the head by a third textbook that had been balancing precariously next to the two kamikaze books.  
  
"Ouch!" Harry cried, rubbing the back of his head. He heard Ginny giggle.  
  
"Sorry. Brought those home for a bit of research for our newest book at work," she said, taking the books from him. Harry glared at the offenders and returned the chair to its original position.  
  
"I'll let you get back to your reading," he said, still rubbing the back of his head where he felt a welt rising. Ginny nodded and picked up her book from where she had laid it on the pillow.  
  
As Harry started back down the stairs, he craned his neck a bit to catch one last glimpse of Ginny. She was still on the bed, her book open and her bookmark in hand. But her eyes weren't traveling across the page; they were focused on the flowers Harry had brought as a soft smile playing across her lips. Harry grinned and felt much braver facing the mob downstairs.


	10. More confessions

Chapter 10  
  
When the party had cleared, Harry stayed behind to help clean. Mrs. Weasley took to the kitchen, clearing the trays of food and carefully preserving them for the next few days. Ron and Ginny had just left to pick up something for dinner that didn't resemble pigs in a blanket when Harry and Hermione finished in the main room.  
  
They collapsed onto the sofa, upsetting a crotched blanket perched precariously on the back. It gave a squeal and slipped off the couch where it lay on the floor, producing what sounded like whimpering sobs. Hermione sighed and picked up the blanket and replaced it. This clearly met with approval, as Harry heard a minute squeak of joy escape as the afghan settled back into its former residence.  
  
"What did you think of the party?" Harry asked, knowing the answer. Hermione closed her eyes and tried not to groan.  
  
"If I never have to see any of those women again, my life will be complete," she muttered. Harry tried not to laugh at her exhaustion and possible misery.  
  
"Well, don't get too excited, but I think a few of them are expecting to attend a wedding."  
  
"Ron said you suggested we elope," Hermione said, opening one eye to glance at Harry appraisingly. Harry suppressed the grin teasing his mouth.  
  
"What do you think?" He asked innocently.  
  
"I say, don't tempt me," Hermione sighed, closing her eyes again. "I had no idea smiling was so much work. I feel like my face is going to fall off," she said, massaging her cheeks and jaw.  
  
"You pulled it off well, our little bride-to-be," Harry said, patting her on the knee. Hermione sunk further into the couch. She clearly had no intent of moving for several hours.  
  
  
  
"Everyone had advice. If I heard, 'at my wedding' once, I heard it a thousand times," Hermione cringed. "One woman suggested I crop off all my hair now and start over."  
  
Hermione had pulled back her rather voluminous hair back into a low ponytail. As they had cleaned, a few strands edging her face had escaped, and she pulled one forward now to inspect it.  
  
"Don't worry about her," Harry said, dismissing the comment with a wave of his hand. Hermione was not glamorous, that much was true. Even though she had finally managed to keep her hair under control consistently, Harry knew it was a sore topic for her. She tucked the strand behind her ear and leaned her head back on the couch. Harry thought he heard a low growl emit from the blanket as Hermione's head lit dangerously close.  
  
"How about for some good news?" Harry asked, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
"I could really go for some."  
  
"I took the job at Hogwarts." This caught Hermione's attention and she sat up quickly. Her eyes caught Harry's, eagerly searching them for signs of a joke.  
  
"Really? Oh I am so glad, Harry. I was afraid I was going to have to corner you," she laughed, leaning back against the couch.  
  
"Ron beat you to it," Harry muttered with a smile.  
  
"Good for him! I'm glad I've had some kind of positive influence," Hermione said proudly.  
  
"And he had a few other words on your behalf," Harry continued nonchalantly. Hermione paused, realizing what he meant, and blushed.  
  
"Oh," was all she said. Harry waited for her to continue. He knew she probably had a few words for him that Ron had kindly left out.  
  
"Well, I just wanted to know if you were happy, Harry. You hadn't dated anyone--not anyone that you mentioned, anyway--since that Heather girl." The hair behind Hermione's ear slipped forward again. Unconsciously, she began twirling it anxiously between her index finger and thumb.  
  
"Yeah, well....." Harry paused before continuing. Her recalled a bit of information he had given Ginny: Hermione is only doing what she thinks is best for him--she only wants what's best for him. Harry chose his words carefully, fearing that he might injure Hermione's feelings.  
  
"If you wanted to set me up with someone, why didn't you just say so?" he asked with a smile.  
  
Hermione let out a nervous laugh. Clearly, she had feared Harry's reaction.  
  
"The thought hadn't really occurred to me," she said.  
  
"To be honest, I hadn't really thought too much about it myself until I heard about the engagement," Harry said. ~Liar~ that little voice accused him. ~You wondered about Ginny often enough, in between fighting bouts of jealousy toward Neville.~  
  
"Oh," Hermione said, now twisting the hair around her finger. She paused and watched Harry, reading him, before she spoke again. Something about the way he didn't quite meet her eyes made her think he wasn't being entirely truthful.  
  
"I'm just trying to live at the moment. I'm not too preoccupied with things like that," Harry said nervously. Hermione wasn't taking his words at face value anymore and it was making him nervous.  
  
"What do you do all year?" Hermione asked. "Besides the occasional get-together with me and Ron?" Harry didn't answer.  
  
"Harry, I know you want to meet girls," Hermione said slowly. Harry fought the urge to squirm. Hermione's mind was turning over theories and ideas and Harry was about to hear them all if he didn't think of something to say. "Why aren't you doing anything about it?"  
  
"It's a little.....difficult," Harry whispered tersely. Hermione glanced behind her, wondering why he had suddenly lowered his voice. Seeing no one, she turned back to Harry. He had shifted and there was now a slight glare on his classes, inhibiting her from reading his eyes.  
  
"It's like Superman trying to date Lois Lane," Harry said, knowing Hermione would understand the reference. "I mean, she's not really interested in him, is she? She swoons because he's strong and saves people and happens to look good in spandex. She's pretty shallow."  
  
"That's an interesting interpretation," Hermione said, crossing her arms. She was eager to see where Harry would take this, but she couldn't push him.  
  
"Well, when girls meet me, they're meeting a legend. They're not really interested in me. They're just interested in a legend they've heard about all their lives," Harry said darkly. Hermione started to speak, so he continued.  
  
"I've lived with the stares and curiosity my whole life, but suddenly it just unnerved me. It just seemed like it was too superficial and all these girls just wanted to date me like they would Gilderoy Lockhart: they don't really know him; they're just dazzled and can't see straight."  
  
"I'm glad you're so humble," Hermione said with a smirk. She knew he didn't intend to sound so arrogant, but she couldn't help but comment on his words.  
  
"I know it sounds stupid. But it's just how I felt when I go out with Neville and try to meet girls. There was a lot of superficial awe I had to get past, and I got sick of it. Heather was the first girl who didn't act like she was having a relationship with my scar instead of me. I actually broke up with her for normal reasons," Harry said, with a touch of pride. He sighed. It was unfortunately true, all of it. Girls treated him like a celebrity and were too awe-struck to proceed with a relationship. Harry was frustrated. He had thought that most of those reactions were in the past; indeed, they had seemed to lessen as he got older. But by jumping into the dating scene he had seemed to unintentionally recall all his former glory.  
  
"Harry, I'm sure if you would just give it a chance," Hermione started. Harry's expression turned dark and she let it go. He didn't always take suggestions so well. It didn't matter who he dated, really, because he'd eventually end up with Ginny, Hermione thought with satisfaction.  
  
"I'm just going to take it easy for awhile. Starting at Hogwarts is going to take up a lot of time. I have some paperwork and licensing I have to take care of, you know," Harry said, his voice rising. Hermione realized that with this, the topic was closed. Their timing was fortunate, because as soon as Harry had said this, Ginny and Ron Apparated into the dining room.  
  
"In here!" Ron called. Hermione and Harry got off the couch to join their friends. Harry heard the afghan giggle as they jostled it slightly getting up. With a start, he wondered if it had ears, and how much it might have comprehended.  
  
"That blanket," he said, motioning over his shoulder to the afghan.  
  
"Oh yeah," Ron said, glancing at the object in question. "We're not sure where he came from. Dad found him but won't tell us where. Harmless one really, just a bit territorial." 


	11. A First Date

Chapter Eleven  
  
The news of Harry's new job spread quickly after Harry talked to Kingsley. His decision to leave the ministry was met with a little too much enthusiasm for his taste. He wondered if Dumbledore had undercover agents everywhere.  
  
Neville took the news quite well, Harry thought. But that now set them to the task of reviewing applicants for the flat. Harry had no idea their flat was in such a prime location; applicants seemed to flood in immediately after an ad was placed in the Daily Prophet. Helping Neville review applicants for another roommate, Harry noticed that Neville was unusually critical and found faults with most of the submissions.  
  
"Look, he works at Dragon Scales," Harry pointed out, naming a wizard "hotspot." It was a popular club located in the heart of downtown London. "He can definitely afford his share. And I'll bet you'd get into the club all the time," Harry said, frowning at various answers.  
  
"But look here, he's allergic to peanuts. I can't have that. I don't want to have to worry about some of my snacks getting mixed with his. No, chuck it," Neville said, throwing it into the growing pile of rejects. Harry sighed. Neville had found miniscule flaws in nearly every application so far. The pile of approved applicants was slim and mainly comprised of females, which Harry had tried to avoid with Neville's track record.  
  
"OK, this fellow's got a cat. You like cats, Neville."  
  
"No I don't. I'm allergic and they might eat Tony," Neville said, referring to his newest frog. With some phenomenal stroke of luck, Trevor had managed to survive through Hogwarts but Neville unfortunately lost him in an Auror training drill. Harry had his suspicions that Trevor hadn't gotten "lost" so much as he more likely "escaped," due to the fact that the training drill was located in a swamp.  
  
"You were never allergic to Crookshanks," Harry said as Neville set the application in the dismissal pile.  
  
"People develop allergies. Who's next?"  
  
"You do realize that if you don't find a roommate, you'll have to let the flat yourself? You can't afford that, Neville," Harry said. "I'm going to move out whether or not you find a roommate."  
  
"I know that!" Neville said, shuffling the papers with indignation. "Jeez, Harry, I'm not dumb."  
  
"OK, sorry," Harry said, returning to the applications. He nevertheless felt that he had struck a chord with Neville, as the latter began to look over applications with more interest.  
  
~*~  
  
~April 22 had seemed so far away~ Harry thought, nervously twisting the paper wrapper that had come off his straw. ~How did it get here so fast?~  
  
He was waiting for Ginny for their lunch "date." He certainly hoped she didn't think it was a real date. At least, he didn't think he wanted her to think so. He didn't acknowledge the waiter who came over to refill Harry's glass. He had only been there for about 10 minutes but during that time he had drained two glasses of water. His eyes anxiously scanned the front door, then to the back hallway leading to the toilets. He wasn't sure where Ginny would make her entrance, but he just hoped she would remember not to dress in her robes......  
  
"Looking for someone?" a voice laughed behind him and a hand touched his shoulder. Harry turned swiftly as Ginny came around from behind him and sat down in the opposite chair.  
  
"How did you get here?" he asked in a low voice.  
  
"Dad had me borrow a Ministry car," she whispered conspiratorially.  
  
"I didn't see you come in," he said anxiously.  
  
"And I won't tell you. A woman has to retain some element of mystery," Ginny laughed. She glanced at the menu with curiosity.  
  
"What are some of these drinks?" she asked, pointing to the different lines of cola. The waiter came over, his pen poised over the paper.  
  
"Can I get you something to drink, Miss?"  
  
"Why don't you get a Coke, and I'll cover your bill?" Harry said quickly. The waiter glanced at Ginny who shrugged and nodded. He quickly scribbled down the order and left them alone again.  
  
"I didn't know you knew how to drive," Harry said, starting to relax. She must have had help dressing from Hermione, or girls are just naturally inclined towards fashion, Harry thought, remembering the mismatching that usually occurred when wizards tried to go "incognito." She was wearing a black sleeveless top that had three blue ribbons and one white streaking across the front at various angular degrees. She had completed the ensemble with a pair of black capris. If she had wanted him to beg, she couldn't have done a better job.....  
  
"I don't. All I had to do was keep my hands on the wheel and just look like I do," Ginny said with a smile. She glanced around them at the restaurant. It was fairly quiet for a lunch hour, with just a few tables occupied here and there. No parties larger than four people were located anywhere. The afternoon sunshine streamed through the large front windows and she watched several people march past. Most of them had phones held to their ears as they chattered incessantly, clutching a bag emblazoned with a store logo or a professional briefcase. She turned back to Harry with a smile.  
  
"It's nice," she remarked with approval. The waiter returned just then with Ginny's drink, and she gave the waiter a grateful smile before he left. She glanced at the straw, clearly doubtful toward its purpose. Quickly, Harry grabbed the straw in his water and took a sip. He casually played with the wrapper, tossing it at her. Ginny picked up the straw, unwrapped it and placed it in her drink and took a sip.  
  
"Interesting," she said, glancing at the drink. She gave Harry a smile. "I like it."  
  
"Good."  
  
"So, Hermione told me you put in your notice at work," Ginny said, folding her arms and leaning on the table.  
  
"Yeah. I thought I'd use the summer to prepare. Dumbledore sent me some paperwork to fill out. I take a test for obtaining my license May eighth. I officially take my leave of the Ministry May thirty-first."  
  
"It must not be a very strenuous process, getting your license, considering we had a new teacher every year in Defense," Ginny said.  
  
"Yeah, I hope. I'm staying with Neville until mid-July. Then I'll move into Hogwarts."  
  
"That'll be exciting. What kind of living arrangements do the teachers get? I never really thought about it while we were actually there. I wonder if Fred and George know," Ginny said thoughtfully.  
  
"I never thought about it either. Truth be told, I don't know. Can you imagine if I had to have a roommate? I'm about fifty years younger than all the other teachers!" Harry said, laughing. The laugh came even if the thought made Harry a little queasy at the thought of sharing a room with one of the teachers.  
  
"Like Snape?" Ginny said. "I can't believe he's still there."  
  
"So is McGonagall, and she's older than he is. Heck, Dumbledore's still there!" Harry said.  
  
"I know, but he just seems to hate teaching so much. Do you get to be head of the Gryffindor house?" Ginny asked eagerly. The thought hadn't occurred to Harry.  
  
"Likely not. I don't even know I'll be returning next year. It is the defense against the dark arts job," Harry reminded her with a laugh.  
  
"Yeah, but you tend to break all the laws of fate," Ginny said, her eyes glancing up to Harry's scar. He shook his head with a smile and looked at his water glass. Ginny glanced down at her menu, forgetting that it was still sitting on the table.  
  
"Oh we better decide before the waiter comes back!" she said, starting to run down the list of various entrees.  
  
After they had ordered, they decided to get down to business.  
  
"OK, let's talk about this elixir," Ginny said, pushing her glass away from her slightly as she set her purse on the table.  
  
"What exactly doesn't this potion entail?" Harry asked somewhat nervously. For one crazy minute, he imagined the Weasley family standing in the kitchen, gathered around a cauldron, Mrs. Weasley pulling glass jars off the shelf. "We're out of eye of newt!" she calls to the family. Harry shook off the image, scolding himself for the stereotypical view.  
  
"Oh, you know, tongue of goat, eye of newt," Ginny said lightly. She took a sip of her Coke before catching Harry's eye. She laughed. "Only pulling your leg, Harry. Everything is edible--well, on some level."  
  
"Is this a recipe you can find in 'Gilderoy Lockhart's Best of House and Home'?" Harry asked warily.  
  
"Definitely not. Here, why don't you take these and I'll try to remember." Ginny dug into her purse and produced a pencil and small pad of paper. Harry looked at it and cleared his throat.  
  
"Is there something you're not telling me?" Harry held out the paper, which had a large lipstick mark from where Ginny had blotted her makeup on a previous occasion. Ginny grinned and shrugged.  
  
"Well, at least it treats me like a real woman," she said suggestively. Harry gave her a look of interested curiosity before putting pencil to paper.  
  
"All right, what does this poison require?"  
  
"First is mink's blood." Harry grimaced and looked up at Ginny again.  
  
"You expect Hermione to drink MINK'S blood?" He clearly did not expect this tradition to sit well with ANY Muggle.  
  
"Ron has to drink it too!" Ginny countered, tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear. "Hermione isn't the only person that may suffer here." The waiter arrived with their meals just then, which prevented Ginny from continuing. Harry noticed she had clutched her napkin rather tightly when she had shot back with her last comment. A mere inch away was her fork, just read y and waiting.....  
  
"So you admit it is a form of torture," Harry said, the pencil poised over the paper, ready for Ginny to continue. Ginny turned her plate clockwise and rolled her eyes.  
  
"Look, I'm going to have to do it someday, too. I won't deny that I'm not looking forward to it, but at the same time we can't whine too loudly or we'll ruin it for Hermione and Ron," Ginny said flatly, taking up her fork. She stabbed her salad a few times before deciding to lift a few leaves to her mouth.  
  
"Let's get on with it, then." Harry's curiosity intensified as he imagined creating this notorious beverage and then watching Ron and Hermione drink it. He wrote "mink's blood" on the paper in his neatest handwriting, feeling as though he might be tested on this later.  
  
"Silver goblet." Ginny munched on a baby carrot from her salad, then took a sip of her Coke. Harry couldn't help but notice the attractive way her hair fell forward.....  
  
"If this is an old family tradition, wouldn't you already have one?" Harry asked suddenly, pulling his eyes back to hers.  
  
"Dunno. Better ask Dad, I guess. Write that down, so we don't forget," Ginny said, pointing to the paper. Harry obliged and did as told.  
  
"Crushed white lily, that they might maintain the purity of their love. We can crush it ourselves if we can't find it pre-crushed," Ginny said. She paused a moment to think. "Three unicorn hairs for the mysticism of romance."  
  
"Wait a minute. All these ingredients have MEANING?" Harry asked, holding up his hand. One of Ginny's eyebrows shot up toward her hairline.  
  
"Yes. Traditions usually have a purpose, although being forced to drink random items is fun in itself."  
  
"Then what's the purpose of mink's blood?" Harry said skeptically.  
  
"The basis for the drink, like water to soup."  
  
"Yeah, but what's its meaning?" Harry asked, dramatically over- emphasizing the last word.  
  
"Well, the Weasley family crest, you know.....has a weasel....OK, technically we should use weasel blood. But mink's blood is sweeter and they're related to the weasel, right? Well, even if they're not they should be. So.....that's why." Ginny related this bit of information awkwardly, as though she was embarrassed.  
  
"So....for my name, would we drink 'eau de potted plants?'" Harry said. Ginny laughed.  
  
"I don't know, maybe. Are you ready for the next one?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"A pinch of shredded dragon scales to ensure the solidity and strength of their marriage. And they HAVE to be pre-shredded, otherwise we'd have to do it ourselves and that's near impossible," Ginny said. Harry scribbled away her notes and gave the paper a tap.  
  
"Right. What next?" He asked. Ginny counted silently on her fingers, trying with some difficulty, to recall the recipe.  
  
"OK, next is the nick of a tongue and ear of a rabbit for communication, essential to a good marriage. I think the fact that it's a rabbit also subtly ties in to fertility," Ginny said with a smile. "But that's not directly mentioned in the presentation."  
  
"Who'll be presenting this, anyway?" Harry asked, looking up after he had finished writing his last sentence.  
  
"Fred and George. Ron and Hermione figure that if we get them to do it, the Muggles will know not to take it seriously, and all the wizards will find them just as amusing." Ginny twirled her straw in her glass, making the ice clink against the sides. She stared at her drink and watched the swirling action for a moment before returning to their task.  
  
"Good call," Harry said as he nodded his head in approval. "What next?"  
  
"There's also a ruby in it, also part of the Weasley family crest."  
  
"Red," Harry remarked. "How appropriate," he said with acknowledgement to Ginny's hair. She blushed and counted off her fingers again.  
  
"Oh yes, and last but not least, chocolate syrup."  
  
"Let me guess this one," Harry cut her off. "Chocolate to ensure the sweet childlike nature of their relationship." Ginny smirked.  
  
"No, chocolate for flavor. Even if the mink's blood is sweet, it's not going to make it all that tasty." Harry smiled to himself and wrote this down.  
  
"So, that's it?"  
  
"Almost. You and I have to add one last ingredient just before we give it to them. So, start thinking," Ginny said with a warning. She returned to her salad as Harry put down the pencil and paper and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his hand over his tousled black hair as he became lost in thought.  
  
"And I can find all this in Diagon Alley?" he asked warily. Ginny glanced around her, making sure no one would overhear.  
  
"Yeah, you have to know where to look. It's not contraband or illegal; you've probably just never been in any of the right stores. That's why I need to know when we can meet again."  
  
"Again?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too interested.  
  
"So I can take you shopping for this stuff. Honestly, you didn't think I was going to let a GUY do all the shopping, did you?" Ginny asked, rolling her eyes. She took another sip of her Coke and glanced at Harry's sandwich.  
  
"Aren't you going to eat that?" she asked, pointing to it with her fork.  
  
"So why bother to bring me along at all?" Harry asked with curiosity. He probably shouldn't press the matter, but he couldn't help himself.  
  
"Because it's from BOTH of us to Ron and Hermione. If you don't do any of the work, then you don't get any of the credit," Ginny said haughtily.  
  
"Hey, I'm here, aren't I?" Harry asked with playful indignation.  
  
"Wow, hard work, writing things down. Did you learn that in Auror training?" Ginny said sarcastically. She reached over and took the pickle off of Harry's plate. "So, when do you want to meet? It would be better to do it on a weekend, that way we have plenty of time."  
  
"Anytime from this Saturday until May 8th is good. And after that, too," Harry said, knowing he had a very empty schedule.  
  
"Fine." Ginny pulled out her calendar again and glanced over it. "May fifteenth okay?"  
  
"Let's see......it's not the eighth, so yeah, I guess it's all right."  
  
"Great. Meet me at the Burrows at eleven and we'll go to the Alley from there." Harry nodded, making a mental note of the date. He had no doubt he wouldn't forget it. 


	12. In the Office

Chapter Twelve  
  
"Ginny, I needed that report today!" Ginny's editor shouted at her as Ginny flew past the office, late as usual.  
  
"And you'll have it!" Ginny said frantically. She had forgotten about that damn report. She shuffled through her papers, desperately looking for the rough draft she had penned on Sunday. It'll have to do, she thought, looking at the last sentence. Deciding she had better at least finish it, Ginny pulled out a quill and started scribbling furiously.  
  
"Don't bother, she's in foul mood and won't like it anyway," Luna said, coming to stand by Ginny's desk. Her voice had its usual musical lilt despite the fact she was feeling especially bitter.  
  
"She wouldn't accept my write up on Nodblites for that new text on Dangerous Creatures of the World."  
  
"That's because Nodblites don't--" Ginny had started to argue their existence, but she glanced up to meet Luna's disapproving gaze and she swallowed her words. "--live in Europe. I mean, this is a younger kids' text, and with their limited location, it would really only be suitable for a more advanced text."  
  
This struck the right note with Luna, who sighed in nostalgia.  
  
"You're right, of course. Fortunately it won't be a waste of time; perhaps Daddy will squeeze it in somewhere," Luna said hopefully. This idea appealed to her and she decided to return to her desk and send a draft to her father.  
  
"Ginny this is the fourth report you have turned in tardy," Yvonne said, chastising Ginny. Ginny had taken only a few moments of extra time before approaching her editor. Yvonne had taken the paper and looked it over briefly before lecturing Ginny. She tilted her head down and looked at the redhead over her stylish rectangular black frames.  
  
"I promoted you to this position because you came highly recommended by Dumbledore and Mr. Lovegood. Trust me--most coworkers your age are a few floors down in the mail room," she said a touch of threat in her voice. Ginny steeled herself and met the gaze of her middle-aged editor. Yvonne St. Mary, known simply as Yvonne, looked as though she belonged as an editor or president of a stylish witch's magazine, not a textbook publisher. Her creamy brown hair was short enough to reach her chin, but she always had it up in a youthful messy-but-organized style. A pencil was balanced precariously over her ear, and she had a thick quill in hand as she made "corrections" to Ginny's piece. In reality, she was merely scratching through entire lines with distaste.  
  
"This is essentially shit," Yvonne said, tossing the parchment back to her employee. Ginny caught the paper before it hit the floor. She knew she hadn't finished it completely, but she had put research into it. Ginny seethed inwardly, but merely rolled the paper up calmly.  
  
"You are clearly not up to the responsibility of working on this floor as a researcher, Miss Weasley," Yvonne continued coldly, her head rising to a flat level now. Ginny cringed as Yvonne addressed her formally. She knew her last piece researching Common Household Charms was not up to snuff but she had no idea Yvonne thought she was slipping this badly.  
  
"OK, I admit, I didn't finish this," Ginny admitted, thinking quickly. She would ask for more time, but how much? She asked for a week, knowing she could do it in two days. Yvonne would want to be harsh and would never agree to a full seven days. "Give me another week and I'll have it back in here, completely revamped. You won't even recognize it." Yvonne's periwinkle blue eyes calculated Ginny's offer carefully.  
  
"Four days. And bring me your sources," Yvonne said flatly. The topic was closed. The editor returned to the other papers on her desk, and Ginny exited quietly. Four days was perfect! And Ginny knew Yvonne was only trying to trip her up by asking for sources. Ginny already had ten, and she knew she could easily get more.  
  
"What happened?" Luna asked, gliding over to Ginny's desk.  
  
"She threatened putting me in the mailroom," Ginny hissed, pulling three of her sources out of a side drawer. She stacked them on top of her desk and dug around for two more.  
  
"Did she do it?" Luna asked gravely.  
  
"I said she threatened, Luna. No, she didn't do it. But I have to rewrite this and give it back to her Sunday." Ginny pulled the books out triumphantly and began leafing through them. She had at least 70 marked pages in her sources that she hadn't even gotten a chance to use yet; adding those to the report would easily stun Yvonne. Better give her too much that she could cut and paste than to short change it, Ginny was learning.  
  
"Sunday? But we don't come in on the weekends."  
  
"I know, but she gave me four days. I'll owl it to her; otherwise, it'll give her the perfect excuse to sack me," Ginny said, putting one hand on the open book and picking up her quill with the other.  
  
"It's a good thing Daddy has a job ready for me at The Quibbler," Luna said dreamily, leaning against the desk and oblivious to the fact that Ginny was ignoring her. "Not that I'd ever get sacked, mind you, but this woman really has it in for us."  
  
Ginny had to agree with that. They were the youngest members on the floor. Writers and researchers for the textbooks had years of experience with the publishing company; most everyone on their floor was at least over thirty-one. The youngest writer was just barely thirty, but even she was accepted into the tribe of "elders" because she had two young children. Yvonne wasn't a nasty woman by nature, but she had seen to it that Luna and Ginny didn't get it easier than anyone else. She was unusually harsh on them, especially Ginny because she didn't have a writer-father Yvonne had to answer to. She took them on grudgingly after prodded by Mr. Lovegood and Dumbledore but made it her intent to see that the girls earned their spots.  
  
"Yeah, well, at least we're up here," Ginny grumbled, checking the book and documenting it.  
  
"I suppose. What's the rush if she gave you four days? I figured you would have stuck it under here," Luna said, referring to Ginny's inbox. It wasn't particularly flooded, but Ginny had a tendency to work on several projects at once, shoving one under the other as she went through them in cycles. It wasn't exactly procrastinating.  
  
"I have an appointment with Harry on Saturday. I expect it to take up most of the afternoon," Ginny said still not looking at Luna. Luna smirked.  
  
"Oh, I see. A date. You know, Ginny, I once--"  
  
"It's not a date," Ginny said hastily, interrupting Luna. "Harry and I have some things we have to do for the wedding."  
  
"Classic denial," Luna said loftily. "You don't need to make excuses to me, Ginny. You should think that out of everybody I would understand." Ginny knew it was useless arguing with Luna. She never got worked up about anything, that girl. The mere idea of a passionate riff insulted her. Something to do with damaging her aura..  
  
"Fine, Luna. You're right. But please, don't let this get around. I don't want anyone to know," Ginny said, dropping her voice to an exaggerated stage whisper. Luna glared at her with disapproval as she detected Ginny's obvious sarcasm.  
  
"That kind of attitude is exactly what WILL get you sacked," Luna said with a warning. Ginny could see her friend was wounded, although she was entirely unsure how she had done it.  
  
"I'm sorry, Luna. But honestly, the thing with Harry is for the wedding. He's best man, I'm the maid of honor; we have to get together for the goblet."  
  
"All you had to do was tell me the truth," Luna responded. Ginny stopped an exasperated sigh that threatened to escape.  
  
"Sorry, Luna," Ginny said, trying not to grit her teeth.  
  
"You're forgiven. I'd better let you finish, then. See you tomorrow," Luna said, leaving Ginny in peace. Ginny rolled her eyes once her friend was gone. Normally she got on with Luna, but lately Ginny had a very short temper for Luna's antics. Maybe it was the strain about the wedding or the article under her fingertips that itched to be written or maybe it was just...  
  
Ginny stopped the thought before it had a chance to fully materialize. This article wasn't going to write itself. She had things to finish if she wanted to enjoy her weekend. 


	13. Shopping Endeavors

Chapter Thirteen  
  
"Ron, would you at least look?" Hermione said, her voice level rising. She and Ron were looking over china. At least, Hermione was. Ron had decided to let Hermione make all the important decisions and wasn't giving much thought to anything at all. Hermione thrust the catalog under his nose.  
  
"I told you, Hermione, I don't care. Whatever you like," Ron said distractedly. He had thought that by giving Hermione free rein over the decision, he would be safe from her disapproving glares and comments. This had clearly backfired, however, as she was losing patience with his uncooperative attitude.  
  
"But, Ron, if I choose something, five years later you're going to hate it! It's not MY wedding, it's OURS!" Hermione said, restraining from stomping her foot. He may be acting childishly, but that didn't mean she was going to.  
  
"It all looks the same, Hermione!" Ron protested, still not looking at her. He was sitting on the couch, practicing a game of wizard's chess against the board. It was the only "player" that he couldn't beat every time.  
  
"It does not, and if you would just LOOK, you'd see that!" Hermione came around to the front of the couch and sat down next to Ron. She thrust the page into his lap.  
  
"Look, my grandparents are offering this as their wedding gift to us. This is a big present, and I think you should be part of it," Hermione pleaded, trying to appeal to Ron's soft side.  
  
"It's not as though we're even going to have company to use it on," Ron grumbled, moving one of his bishops.  
  
"Maybe not for the first year or so, no. But when we get older and have a nice house that people can come to, why not? Ron, would you at least look?" Hermione said desperately. Ron sighed and took the catalogue in hand.  
  
"Fine. What am I looking at?" He asked with boredom. Hermione began to point out different designs that had caught her eye. Ron looked them all over, not sure how he was supposed to feel about dishware. He finally pointed to one on the next page that had a simple emerald green edging on a crème yellow plate.  
  
"What about that one?" he asked hesitantly. Hermione grinned.  
  
"You know, I liked that one, too. It's settled. Ten settings!" she said, giving Ron a kiss and hopping up from the couch.  
  
"Good grief, do we have that many friends to invite?" Ron asked, looking up from his game.  
  
"If our family is anywhere near the size of yours, most of these plates won't ever see the hand of a friend," Hermione said. Ron hadn't really thought about that idea, nor discussed it with Hermione. He blushed slightly and returned to his game. He was in the middle of checkmating his opponent when the fireplace gave a loud wheeze and Harry rolled out of it.  
  
"Hey, mate. Just finished a game, care to join me?" Ron asked, as the pieces returned to their starting position. Harry dusted himself off, shaking his head and coughing.  
  
"No thanks." He hadn't anticipated running into the whole family. What would they think? Ginny came into the room glancing sideways at Ron as she approached Harry.  
  
"Good to see you, Harry. What a surprise."  
  
"Er-hello, Ginny," Harry said, unsure of what the scheme was. He continued dusting himself off. Travel by floo was a dirty means. "Is--er-- Hermione about?"  
  
"She just went into the kitchen. Why don't you come wash up and I'll get her?" Ginny said loudly, glancing at Ron. He clearly had very little interest, as somehow the board had talked him into another game of chess. He glanced up.  
  
"Yeah, she's ordering china. But I reckon you'll lift her mood," Ron said, waving the two away. Ginny led Harry around the corner.  
  
"I didn't think everyone was going to be here," she said in a whisper.  
  
"Is this some sort of surprise?" Harry asked in confusion. If it were a tradition, wouldn't Ron and Hermione already know?  
  
"Well, I thought it best if they didn't know when we went shopping. Ron's been trying to get some of the ingredients out of me for ages, and if he knows we've been, he'll start snooping. And I don't want to worry Hermione, either," Ginny said. "You go out back and Apparate just in front of Ollivander's. I'll join you in a minute."  
  
"I thought you said I could wash up," Harry said in confusion. Ginny rolled her eyes.  
  
"Scourgify!" she said, flicking her wand at Harry. In an instant, he was returned to a pristine state; even his robes looked as though they'd had a refresher. Ginny then gave him a shove toward the back door. Harry wasn't sure if he should make his exit known or not, but no one in the house seemed to notice as he opened the door to the backyard and took his leave. He took a few steps away from the house so the noise produced by his Apparating wouldn't be so loud.  
  
Harry always closed his eyes on Apparating. Wizard travel of any sort generally made him slightly motion-sick. When he opened them, he was standing in front of Ollivander's, watching various witches and wizards trickle past in a steady stream of traffic. Ginny joined him a few moments later while he was turned around, admiring the display old Mr. Ollivander had set up in the front window.  
  
"All right then, off we go!" she said cheerfully, pulling the list out of a pocket in her robes.  
  
"Unicorn hair, we'll get that first. I suppose we could stop by The Bead Bag," Ginny said, musing. "Yes, we'll go there first." Harry followed obligingly, although it was more difficult to not overtake her than it was to keep up.  
  
"What's this store?" Harry asked, glancing at the sign before they entered.  
  
"A little accessories shop," Ginny said. They ducked inside, and indeed, it seemed to be specifically geared toward witches. Potions and powders lined the shelves, most of the cosmetic family. There were luxury items for "magic" baths: some coated the surface of the water with mountains of airy bubbles, while others claimed to transport the bather to an exotic seascape; and various cloths for enhancing one's robes: everything from lace to a cloth running with metallic colors.  
  
"Here," Ginny said, stopping in the back. The back was filled with miscellaneous items that Harry couldn't quite categorize. He glanced around himself at the shelves filled with herbs, spices, animal paraphernalia, and unfamiliar substances.  
  
"What's all this?" Harry asked. Ginny had pulled a box off the shelf and was glancing at the back of it.  
  
"Various items for potions and the like. You can find the ingredients to any kind of love potion in here, as well as physical enhancers." Ginny decided that the box she held wasn't quite what they wanted, so she moved further down the row and picked up a cylindrical tube.  
  
"Ah, here we go," she said, waving it at Harry. He plucked it from her hand and read the label.  
  
"Don Salvo's Unicorn Hair. Guaranteed pristine pureblood unicorn hair from the family of Don Salvo," Harry read aloud.  
  
"They're famous for raising unicorns," Ginny said, taking the package from out of Harry's hands. "Somewhere in the south of Spain, I believe."  
  
Harry followed as Ginny took the canister up front to pay. He continued to gaze at the things around him, wondering what kind of unsuspecting victims had fallen prey to the contents of this store.  
  
"One down," Ginny said, scratching a line through Harry's neatly written "unicorn's blood." Ginny glanced down the street, mentally picturing the stores lining the well-traveled road.  
  
"I suppose we may as well stop at the Greenery while we're over here," Ginny said, glancing at the list again. She motioned for Harry to follow, and she lead the way across the street and down an alley Harry hadn't noticed. A few confident turns, and Ginny had led them to an entirely glass-fronted shop that had ivy crawling over the door to spell "The Greenery."  
  
"Cal?" Ginny said, stepping inside to the controlled atmosphere. The greenhouse reminded Harry of Professor Sprout's classroom; and he looked around recognizing several botanic specimens. A young man came from the far corner, wiping his soiled hands on a rag.  
  
"Hey, Gin, what can I do for you?" he said with a grin. The boy couldn't have been any older than Harry, given away by his still-smooth complexion. He had nut-brown hair and a strong jawline, which emphasized his broad grin, which he continuously aimed at Ginny. Harry realized with a start that this fellow either fancied Ginny or had at one time.  
  
"Some white lily, crushed if you have it," Ginny said. Harry was relieved to see she was not returning Cal's electric grin.  
  
"I'll check. That's all?" Cal tossed the hand towel over his shoulder and turned to inspect a plant by his left elbow. He pinched off a leaf, presumably dead, and looked at Ginny again.  
  
"That's it. Unless you have something, Harry?" Ginny turned as she asked. Cal looked at Harry as though seeing him for the first time. His grin flickered somewhat, but remained.  
  
"No, I don't think so," Harry said with confusion. Why was she asking him? She had the list! And why wouldn't that bloke stop smiling?!  
  
"Fine, I'll be right back," Cal said, turning on his heel and retreating to a back room  
  
"You know that bloke?" Harry whispered once the enemy was out of earshot.  
  
"Yeah. Same year in Hogwarts. Nice guy, Cal. Asked me to a Hogsmeade weekend once," Ginny said, recalling that information for the first time in years.  
  
"Did you go?" Harry asked, wishing he'd kept the words to himself.  
  
"No. Dunno why though. Guess he's too nice," Ginny said with a laugh. Cal returned with a smile vial of a white and obviously floral substance. Ginny pressed a few coins into his palm and gave him a smile in gratitude.  
  
"Don't be a stranger!" Cal called out as Harry and Ginny exited the building. Harry had a feeling he would really rather stay completely unacquainted, thank you.  
  
Their final stop was the "Everything Creatures" shop, which Harry found to be somewhat of a misnomer. It was everything except live creatures. The shop specialized in animal products essential to potions and spells. It was here that they received the last of their ingredients: crushed dragon scales, mink's blood--which, Harry thought, looked particularly UNappetizing, and tongue and ear of a rabbit. They exited the shop, realizing that the afternoon was coming to a close.  
  
Unwilling to let time with Ginny slip by, Harry thought quickly.  
  
"I'm starved. Would you like to get something to eat?" He glanced at his watch. It was a risky move, considering it was nearly 3 and too early for supper. Ginny grinned up at Harry.  
  
"Sounds great. I know a great place around the corner, follow me," Ginny said. And though she had repeated this many a time throughout the day, impulsively she grabbed Harry's hand and started on her way to the restaurant.  
  
When they arrived at the door, Ginny suddenly dropped his hand, awkward and embarrassed at such a child-like thing to do. She glanced up at Harry and hoped he wasn't too disgusted.  
  
Harry was looking at the sign hanging over the door with some interest. After Ginny dropped his hand, he was ashamed to admit he wished he hadn't let go. He hastily shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to preserve the warmth she had left on his palms. Harry glanced down at Ginny with a smile.  
  
"Well? Let's go in." The two stepped into the restaurant to prolong the enjoyable afternoon.  
  
The dark atmosphere of the small building made Harry feel claustrophobic. It didn't get much better when the host took one look at them, smiled, and let them to a small corner booth. They slid in, Ginny apologizing awkwardly.  
  
"Sorry. I should've said something to Gregor," Ginny said, nodding to the host who was returning to his post at the door. Even in the dark light, Harry could see a blush rise to her cheeks.  
  
"I usually come in here on dates, and so he didn't bother to ask," Ginny confessed. Harry wasn't sure if he should be flattered that she took him to her usual date spot..or insulted that the host would think of him as just one of Ginny's conquests.  
  
They were squished side by side into the small booth, sheltered from the public view of the restaurant. It was difficult to sit comfortably without brushing the other person. Harry's back was ramrod straight and he was sure he looked rather uncomfortable. Well, that was appropriate, because he certainly didn't feel comfortable. Harry cleared his throat and tried not to pay attention to their forced close proximity.  
  
"It's all right. Those chairs look uncomfortable anyway," he said loudly. Harry cleared his throat again and tried to focus on maintaining some sense of dignity. He glanced at the menu, recognizing only one dish that Mrs. Weasley had once made. He decided, for now, to stay with what he knew.  
  
"So how did your test or whatever go?" Ginny asked after they had ordered.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, momentarily confused. He should start paying attention to what she said and not the way she said it, he decided.  
  
"Didn't you have that teaching thing last Saturday?" Ginny asked, unfolding her napkin.  
  
"Oh. Yeah. That." Harry mentally kicked himself. It would be really great if I could put together a complete sentence or two, he thought angrily. "It wasn't difficult. In fact, most of my instructors looked like they were ready to doze off themselves."  
  
"That explains how Lockhart got the job," Ginny muttered.  
  
"No, I think his merits were based on winning that smile award," Harry reminded her. "He probably got in on name alone. Why are we talking about Lockhart?" Harry asked suddenly.  
  
"Sorry," Ginny laughed. "Are you excited? Have you talked to Dumbledore?"  
  
"I suppose I'm excited. A little apprehensive, actually. I hope they don't expect too much."  
  
"When does it all become official?" Ginny said, scooting her utensils over for her plate that had come sailing through the kitchen door and to their table.  
  
"I'm not sure. I sent an owl to Dumbledore after I finished, and I expect a return any day now."  
  
"He hasn't gotten back to you yet?" Ginny asked with concern. Harry shrugged.  
  
"Not yet. He's probably pretty busy planning his holiday after school," Harry said. Ginny giggled at the thought of Dumbledore stretched out on a beach somewhere, sunscreen streaked on his nose, half-moon sunglasses glinting in the sun.  
  
"I hope he gets back in time for the wedding. Ron and Hermione invited him."  
  
"They did?" Harry asked incredulously. Of course, it made perfect sense to invite Dumbledore when he thought about it.  
  
"Invited everyone from the Order," Ginny said, taking a bite of some of her pasta.  
  
"Everyone?" Harry asked incredulously. Ginny nodded.  
  
"Even Snape," they said in unison. Ginny laughed.  
  
"Yes, Snape, too. Of course he'll probably say no, but Mum said that if everyone else was invited and he wasn't, well, he'd find out," Ginny said, lifting another forkful of pasta.  
  
"But if he's going to say no anyway, why should he care?" Harry asked, still not too keen on the idea.  
  
"Because Mum says we should still let him know we thought about him." Harry bit back the comments that threatened to fall off his tongue about whether or not Snape cared about what they thought about him.  
  
"Like you said, he'll probably say no."  
  
"But you're going to have to work with him," Ginny said with a mischievous smile.  
  
"Please don't remind me," Harry groaned. "I'm trying to think happy thoughts about this."  
  
"I just think it's exciting," Ginny said, her eyes lighting up.  
  
"One of us going back to Hogwarts. We could meet you at Hogsmeade during one of the weekends!" Ginny said, the idea suddenly occurring to her. The thought pleased Harry as well, although he didn't let on as such.  
  
"As long as I'm not one of the teachers required to stay behind," he said nonchalantly, trying not to imagine a weekend of selfish time spent in Ginny's company.  
  
"We'd come and visit anyway!" Ginny responded pleasantly. "It's not as though we don't know all the secret entrances." Harry mused over this point. It wasn't as though they wouldn't be welcome, either. He had a hard time imagining any students that could possibly love Hogwarts more...and vice versa. Harry gave her a genuine grin.  
  
"That would be great."  
  
When they left the restaurant, Ginny gave her bag a shake that contained their products for the day.  
  
"See you later," she said, starting to walk away.  
  
"Wait, I thought I was coming back to the Burrow with you," Harry said with a start.  
  
"Well, actually...it would probably be suspicious if you came back with me," Ginny said, blushing. Harry paused, his first instinct was to be insulted. He then watched the guilty blush creep up Ginny's cheeks. For some reason the idea of making the afternoon something of a secret rendezvous was appealing; it was their secret. It was worth it to agree if only to observe the charming guilt that seemed to affect Ginny. He smiled.  
  
"See you, then," he said with a wave. 


	14. Time goes by

Chapter Fourteen  
  
"What do you think of this?" Hermione asked, coming out of the dressing room. She had taken Ginny dress shopping with her one afternoon in late May. They had stopped at one previous boutique with very little success. This was the second stop but their afternoon was already wasting away to early evening. Ginny had a sneaking suspicion they weren't going to find "the dress" today.  
  
"I dunno. Makes you look..short?" Ginny said, fishing for an adjective. To put it flatly, it just didn't look right. She couldn't put her finger on why exactly, so she provided Hermione with an adjective.  
  
"Really? I just don't like it," Hermione said, smoothing the front. She looked in the mirror and shook her head. "Definitely not." She marched back into one of the changing stalls to try on another dress.  
  
"Have you and Ron talked about a honeymoon?" Ginny asked, flipping through some bridal magazines that were laying on the end table next to her chair. She heard the rustle of clothes as Hermione returned the previous offender to a hanger.  
  
"Yes," Hermione said, slightly muffled. She must have had part of the dress over her head.  
  
"Well, where are you going?"  
  
"Some bed and breakfast in Switzerland. It looks really beautiful, and came highly recommended," Hermione responded, zipping up the back.  
  
"By who?" Ginny asked, tossing the magazine aside. She was getting hungry.  
  
"Some colleagues of my parents stayed there a few years ago on vacation. They loved it." Hermione opened the door and came out into room again.  
  
"That's a little-revealing?" Ginny said, one eyebrow shooting up. The neckline was cut extremely low and unusual to see on conservative, levelheaded Hermione. Hermione frowned and tugged the material higher on her chest.  
  
"Yeah, I didn't think it would be this low," she said, pulling at the material again.  
  
"Well, you don't want to be doing that for three hours. Back to the drawing board," Ginny said, pointing to the stalls. Hermione followed orders, this time, handing the dress to Ginny over the door. Ginny obliged and returned it to a waiting rack.  
  
"So what did you and Harry do last weekend?" Hermione called from the dressing room. Ginny rolled her eyes. Hermione had clearly wanted to ask THAT question all afternoon. Ginny glanced at her watch; it had only taken her 3 hours to ask it.  
  
"Oh, you know..." Ginny said, trying to come up with an excuse. "Shopping."  
  
"For what?" Hermione asked, trying to conceal her intense curiosity.  
  
"Things," Ginny said, avoiding specifics.  
  
"Presents?" Hermione asked. Ginny caught the idea and ran with it.  
  
"Yeah, presents. And I'm not telling," she said with finality. Hermione came out of the dressing room again, pulling at the shoulders on the dress. It was an off-the-shoulder style, but Hermione was clearly uncomfortable. She stood in front of the mirror again, disappointment marked on her face.  
  
"I really liked this one," Hermione said with a frown, trying to adjust the shoulders. "But it's really uncomfortable." She turned slightly to see the back of the dress.  
  
"The back doesn't sit right," she said, trying to smooth it out. Ginny squinted and shook her head. Hermione sighed.  
  
"Well, this was the last one," she said dejectedly, turning in the mirror again.  
  
"Can I pick one?" Ginny asked hopefully. Hermione had done most of the selecting all afternoon, using Ginny as a mere sounding board. Hermione sighed and decided she didn't have much choice.  
  
"Alright, but just one. I'm getting sick of this," she said, retreating to the dressing room. Ginny returned to the front of the boutique where she had seen a dress that caught her eye. It had a silk fitted bodice with long sleeves, and a square cut neckline that wouldn't be uncomfortably low. The skirt was satin and flared enough to give a bell- like quality to it. It was remarkably simple, but appropriate for Hermione.  
  
"Here," Ginny said, thrusting the dress at her friend. Hermione traded her for the dress she had just put on a hanger. Ginny was returning the last dress to its family when she heard the familiar and annoying squeak of the stall door.  
  
"Well?" Ginny asked, hurrying back to join Hermione. Hermione was still turning in the mirror, looking at herself from every angle possible as a smile slid across her features.  
  
"Ginny. I hate you," she said with a grin. "Why didn't you give me this one before?"  
  
"You weren't exactly open to suggestions," Ginny said with a laugh, remembering the way Hermione had breezed into the boutique, pointing out dresses and leaving Ginny unable to get a word in.  
  
"It's perfect," Hermione said, still observing the dress with a large grin.  
  
"I'll put this aside and bring our Moms in next week. Try on a few dresses, and then pull out this one. We have to make them think it's their idea," Hermione said with a laugh. "I wouldn't have survived this afternoon with both of them."  
  
"Ah, strategy," Ginny said knowingly. "I like it." Hermione laughed and returned to the dressing room. They had the dress set aside after Hermione thoroughly reviewed security measures to ensure the safety of her dress.  
  
"How is your research coming, Hermione?" Ginny asked as the two girls exited the shop. Ginny slipped her arm through Hermione's companionably as they headed down the street to buy smoothies as self-indulgent rewards for the long day.  
  
"Very well. I'm almost done. I know I've been saying that for months, but I'll definitely be done by August. Well, if I have a little help," Hermione said slyly. Ginny snorted.  
  
"I know you don't imply me," she said, waving her free arm in refutation. "I'm willing to help wherever you need me on this wedding thing. But, Hermione, honestly? I do enough research of my own. I don't LIVE for it, you know," Ginny said frowningly. Hermione sighed.  
  
"I know. I've managed to rope Ron into a few hours now and then," Hermione said wistfully.  
  
"Boy he must REALLY love you," Ginny laughed, having a difficult time seeing Ron willingly sit down for extra research. Hermione didn't respond, but Ginny could see a large grin sitting on Hermione's face.  
  
~*~  
"Tests! I have to give tests! And homework! How am I supposed to give homework? It's sacrilege!" Harry cried, storming around Ron's room. Ron sat calmly on the bed, flipping through a wedding magazine. Hermione had made him promise to read an article under penalty of death--or no wedding, whichever was easier, she had said.  
  
"Jeez, Harry, would you pipe down?" Ron asked. "You'd think this was the end of the world."  
  
"Ron, do you even REMEMBER being at Hogwarts? I do! We're still practically kids, and I have to teach that riffraff," Harry said, still pacing.  
  
"Hey, watch it. You're starting to sound like Snape, and I won't have that kind of language in here," Ron said warningly.  
  
"Ron, I can't give those kids homework! We hated homework. I still remember that. How am I supposed to give them homework when I can remember sitting in Potions and getting assigned lengths and lengths of scrolls!" Harry paused his pacing momentarily to direct his words at Ron.  
  
"Fine, then, Harry. Don't give them homework. There's other ways to make sure they get the information."  
  
"I will not give a pop quiz," Harry said gravely. Ron sighed.  
  
"Will you get over it? You're not supposed to be their friend, Harry. Gain their respect first and friendships will follow naturally," Ron said, returning to the article.  
  
"Ron...I can't do this," Harry said, sinking into a nearby chair, his head in his hands.  
  
"Harry, you want my honest opinion? You're being stupid," Ron said. Harry looked up at Ron, glaring at him. Ron held up his hand.  
  
"Hear me out. Believe me, I know you're apprehensive. I mean, it's certainly a new angle. But Dumbledore wanted you for the job because you're good with people, Harry. People like you, not just because you're Harry Potter, but because you're a nice guy. You know what you're talking about. And despite my most recent words," Ron said with a smile, "you've got a lot of support on this. You'll be fine. Now, no more fishing for compliments." Ron returned to his article. Harry shook his head in disbelief. His friends were something else.  
  
"If you want to rant about something so desperately, why don't you rant a little about your excursion with Ginny few weeks ago," Ron asked nonchalantly. He looked up from the article with a smile.  
  
"It was a little strange your dropping in unexpectedly and then disappearing. Funny, we couldn't find Ginny all day," he said with a grin. Harry felt his ears begin to burn.  
  
"Nothing. We had some shopping to do," he said nervously. It was the truth, wasn't it?  
  
"Uh-huh. Because I know how much you love to go shopping," Ron said, scratching his freckle be-specked nose. Harry shook his head.  
  
"C'mon, Ron," he said, hoping his friend would drop it. Ron smiled.  
  
"Fine, I'll let it go. But don't think we're not paying attention, Potter," he said, his eyes dropping back down to the magazine on his bed.  
  
A/N: I apologize for the brevity of this chapter. But as I said, this story is writing itself; I am merely the instrument of the Muses! 


	15. Welcome to Hogwarts

A/N: I have no idea when the school year ends for Hogwarts, but I assume because it starts in August two weeks after Harry's birthday (July 31), they probably get out early too, in late May I suppose. If anyone has any other figures, let me know.  
  
To all my readers--thank you for your loyal and kind reviews! I love getting them (who doesn't?) Scratch: thank you for your kind comments. As much as I love Brit. Lit., I must admit I am not British (as you could tell :) ). And though I try, basically using what I can pick up in the books and Bridget Jones (wink), it is very difficult for an American to incorporate British slang! For two countries that speak the "same" language, most of the vernacular is very different! :)  
  
Chapter Fifteen  
  
Days seemed to fly by as Harry anxiously kept one eye on the calendar. He was moving out of the flat June ninth, scheduled to arrive at Hogwarts the very same day. He had received his scores from his exam--passing exceedingly well--and a packet of information for "new teachers." Dumbledore had replied to his letter as well, acting completely surprised at Harry's offer to teach, though he was "immensely gratified that Harry had taken the position." He promised to be at the school when Harry arrived.  
  
"Neville, have you seen that text I got on understanding the young mind?" Harry asked, looking through a stack of books he had either bought or received to help him survive his first year of teaching. The books varied from the topic of defense against the dark arts, to counseling teens. Neville came into Harry's room, a muffin in hand.  
  
"No, sorry. I thought you were done packing?" Neville asked. Harry had finished most of his packing by the seventh, but it was the eve of the ninth and Harry was still running around the flat collecting his belongings.  
  
"I was finished with nearly everything but the school supplies. I wanted to pack those last." Harry glanced into his trunk, digging through a pile of clothes, still looking for the book. "Oh, I don't care." He stacked the books he had in his hand into the trunk.  
  
"If you find it laying around, send it to me," Harry said, locking the lid with a click. Neville shrugged.  
  
"I certainly wouldn't keep it," he assured Harry. "What time are you leaving in the morning?" Neville asked. Harry had decided to go by broomstick, having worked out a few invisibility charms.  
  
"About ten I imagine," Harry said. Ron would be stopping by to help with the load. Neville wasn't exactly handy with a broomstick and Harry thought he'd best take no chances with his belongings.  
  
"That's fine," Neville nodded. "Leo's bringing his first set of boxes over at three." Leo had been the lucky final applicant chosen. He wasn't allergic to peanuts, didn't have a cat, and had plenty of time to go out on the town. Harry suspected Neville and Leo would get along famously.  
  
"You'd best get some shut-eye. Got a bit of a flight," Neville said, taking a crunchy bite out of his snack. Harry nodded and rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was rather tired. Last night Tonks, Shacklebolt, Moody, Lupin, and a few others in the office had taken Harry out for one last farewell. The party had lasted late into the evening. Harry wondered again how Neville did it.  
  
"Yeah, thanks," Harry said, collapsing onto his bed and not bothering to get undressed. He had one last fleeting thought of Ginny waving him off to Hogwarts before he drifted to sleep.  
  
Harry was awakened the next morning by a loud pounding. Harry sat up quickly, rubbing his eyes. He scrambled to find his glasses, which had fallen onto the bed during the night, and placed them over his ears.  
  
"Coming! Coming!" he grumbled, stumbling to the door. He glanced at Neville's door, which was still shut securely. "Sleep through a war, I reckon," Harry muttered angrily at the lack of response from Neville. Harry glanced at the clock in the kitchen as he shuffled his way to the door: 9:50.  
  
Harry swore under his breath, knowing Ron had probably gotten impatient. He flung open the door and was surprised to see a different redhead standing there.  
  
"Hey, Harry!" Ginny said brightly, her fist still raised. She lowered it and breezed past him into the room, two broomsticks in hand. "You look a mess."  
  
"Well---I---what---why? What are you doing here?" Harry finally managed to choke out.  
  
"Ron thought you might need an extra broom and asked me to come along."  
  
"Where is Ron?" Harry asked, trying to clear the cobwebs that had formed in his mind overnight. Ginny was observing the room and hadn't heard his last words. He repeated the question louder.  
  
"Oh, sorry. He's getting breakfast. We got here at 9:30 but no one answered. We hung around in the hall, knocking and trying to get your attention. He decided to get us some breakfast. Should be back soon. I don't think he wanted to wake you," Ginny said, turning to Harry with a grin.  
  
"But I have some other things I needed to do today, so it was either wake or be woken. Where are the trunks?" Ginny asked.  
  
"In the room," Harry said, gesturing to his bedroom off the hall. She started towards it, but he suddenly gained consciousness and jumped ahead of her. "Er, gimme a second, will you?"  
  
"Sure, Harry," Ginny said, turning around and going to inspect the kitchen. Harry entered his room and closed the door behind him quietly. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to gain some composure. He quickly threw on a new set of clothes and pressed robe, stuffing his clothes from yesterday into one of the trunks. He had two trunks and a large bag in addition to Hedwig's cage. After the year was over he wouldn't have home to return to, so Harry had to take everything with him.  
  
Once he had regained some dignity, Harry opened the door and began pushing out some of the trunks. Ginny heard the noise and rushed over to help drag the trunks into the main room. Ginny had just retrieved Hedwig's cage from Harry's room when Ron showed up with juice and doughnuts. They decided to have breakfast and then "load up" the broomsticks. Neville came out of his room long enough to mumble a thick good-bye and swipe a doughnut.  
  
The flight to Hogwarts was enjoyable. The sun had come out from the clouds long enough to keep the upper altitude warm. It was almost pleasant enough for Harry to ignore the nervous activity in his stomach. He closed his eyes, hoping breakfast wouldn't return. The trio flew as close as possible, trunks charmed invisible. Ginny had issued a few charms similar to those practiced on the World Cup Stadium. If any Muggle should glance into the sky, they might have a sudden urge to check their watch instead, which of course would remind them of their next appointments and send them scurrying along.  
  
Ginny pointed when the school came into view, and the three picked up speed. Harry could easily left them behind on his Firebolt, aged though it was. He kept his speed in check with Ginny and Ron's. Too quickly, the grounds had zoomed towards them and they landed outside of Hagrid's hut.  
  
"Hagrid!" Harry shouted, untying Hedwig's cage from his broomstick. She could have flown and followed close behind, but Harry knew she was getting on in years and it would be best not to overexert her. They heard a rumble from inside the house and Hagrid emerged, followed by a bumbling adolescent pup. The dog looked remarkably like Fang, but with an odd white back foot. He stumbled down the steps after Hagrid, mouth hanging open in a jovial welcome.  
  
"Hey, Harry, Ron, Ginny," Hagrid boomed, hugging them each in turn. "So yeh've come back to Hogwarts, have yeh?" Hagrid's smile practically extended past his thick-but graying-beard. The dog flopped into a sitting position by Hagrid's side and looked up at his master.  
  
"Who's this?" Ginny said, stepping forward to the dog.  
  
"This here's Gaffer," Hagrid said proudly patting the dog's head.  
  
"Fang?" Ron asked carefully.  
  
"Passed on a few years ago. Good dog," Hagrid said with a wistful smile. "Tried goin' without a dog, but gets awful lonely sometimes." Hagrid sighed. "So I contacted the man who bred Fang and asked him fer a pup. Gave me Gaffer here, free, knowing how good I takes care of me animals."  
  
"He's great, Hagrid," Ron said, eyeing the dog carefully. "He's a bit bigger than Fang, though, isn't he?"  
  
"Yeah, I thought so, too. And he's only about ten months. Still got some growing to do."  
  
Gaffer decided that the attention should be fully appreciated while it was offered; he rolled over with an appreciative grunt as Ginny scratched his blue-black belly. His back leg pedaled wildly in the air and both Ron and Harry cringed, fearfully anticipating one of the large boots making contact with Ginny's head.  
  
"Where are my manners?" Hagrid said, slapping a large palm to his forehead. "Let me take that." Hagrid bent over and lifted one of Harry's trunks easily into his arms. Gaffer, seeing the activity, sprang to his feet and let out an excited bark. Ginny clapped her hands over her ears as the deep bass reverberated near her head.  
  
"Thanks, Hagrid," Ron said, flicking his wand and making one trunk levitate in front of him. Harry picked up the bag and flung one strap over his shoulder. Ginny stole away from the barking Gaffer to lift Hedwig's cage. The bird had her eyes closed tightly, trying to ignore the dog.  
  
Hagrid led the trio across the grounds and into the main hall of Hogwarts. It seemed very different with no children milling about, and even Ron remarked on hearing the birds in the trees.  
  
"Here yeh are," Hagrid said placing the trunk on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall. The noise surprised Gaffer who was waiting outside, and sent him into another round of barking. Even Hagrid cringed a bit, though the sound was muffled.  
  
"Still got a bit of learnin' to do," Hagrid said apologetically. "Little overexcited, he is."  
  
"But welcome all the same," said a familiar voice. Dumbledore was gliding across the hall to bid them welcome.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said with a grin. Dumbledore smiled at them, his eyes sparkling as always. He embraced them all in turn then stepped back in appraisal.  
  
"Where is Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked pointedly to Ron.  
  
"Research," Ron said quickly. He hadn't felt a bit guilty leaving Hermione behind to work on her project; it ensured his safety from being trapped in the same position.  
  
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore responded with a knowing smile. "And to you, Ron, I extend my heartfelt, though belated, congratulations." Ron blushed to the tips of his ears and muttered a thank you.  
  
"Is anyone here yet, Professor?" Harry asked quickly.  
  
"Not yet, Harry. Most teachers take their leave as soon as the term has ended. You will see a few in the weeks to come. I suspect you are ready for your room now?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Harry over his half- moon spectacles.  
  
"I best tend to Gaffer, the crazy mutt," Hagrid said, thumbing toward the direction of the frantically barking pup. Dumbledore nodded and Hagrid exited to a chorus of "see you, Hagrid!"  
  
"Well, Harry, if you will follow me," Dumbledore said, motioning for them to follow. He led through down the hall and up a staircase, that quite frankly, none of them had noticed their seven years at Hogwarts. The portraits and various paintings whispered to one another as the party made their way up the winding stairs.  
  
"New professor, eh, Dumbledore?" One man finally asked. He held a small diagram in his hand of the solar system.  
  
"Yes, Copernicus," Dumbledore said. "Harry will be our Defense Against the Dark Arts." Copernicus glared at Harry.  
  
"Bit young isn't he?" he asked, shifting his sour gaze back to Dumbledore. Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"So he is. But you should know to not let appearances deceive you." Copernicus grunted and the caravan moved on.  
  
Dumbledore finally stopped in front of a large carved Hogwarts crest, hung about eye level on the wall. He flipped open the Ravenclaw symbol on a small hinge and inserted an object the size of a button.  
  
"Is that--"  
  
"Bertie Bott's? Yes, Ron. I'm afraid that I found very little use for them until we devised this key." As Dumbledore said this a deep crack formed down the length of the wall, trailing down from the center of the crest. This crack gave a groan and slide open to reveal another hallway.  
  
"I've never noticed any of this before," Ginny said, looking around her in astonishment.  
  
"That is quite the point, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, a teasing sparkle in his eye. "I'm afraid the Marauder's Map was only marginally incomplete." Ginny grinned.  
  
The trio continued to follow Dumbledore. Ginny glanced behind them as she heard the soft grating of the walls sliding back together. The halls were dim, lit by torches on the walls. Fewer paintings lined the walls of this hall. Most of them seemed disinterested in the party that was moving past their pictures.  
  
"Ah, here," Dumbledore said finally, glancing at the door. H. Potter was emblazoned on the door in glimmering brass. Dumbledore gave the door a nudge, looking at Harry as he did so. "Of course, you'll have to make your own password." Harry nodded wordlessly, entering his room.  
  
The room stretched before him, longer than it was wide. A stone fireplace was set into the wall on the right while a painting of a windmill turning slowly hung over the mantle. The room was dressed in deep scarlet and mahogany. Heavy red velvet curtains hung across from them, presumably over an equally large window. A mahogany table stood next to a couch, with a hurricane lamp atop it. A deep scarlet couch sat opposite the fireplace, its dark wood back gleaming in the lamplight. Ginny and Ron came to a stop behind Harry, Ginny letting out a breath of awe.  
  
"Where's the bed?" Harry finally choked out. Dumbledore smiled and motioned to a doorway to the right of the fireplace that they had somehow overlooked.  
  
"You mean, this is just the main room?" Ginny asked. Dumbledore watched them in amusement but said nothing.  
  
Harry hurried through the open doorframe, which led to a short flight of steps that curled up and around to another door. Harry turned the knob and stepped inside to find a room very similar to his old dorm in Gryffindor, but with only one bed. He couldn't stop the smile that was spreading across his face. Harry dropped his bag on the floor and ran back down the stairs to Ginny and Ron.  
  
"Professor, this is...." Harry looked about him in astonishment, unable to find the perfect adjective. Dumbledore smiled and nodded slightly.  
  
"I'll leave you to settle in then. Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Potter." 


	16. Parties and hangovers

Chapter Sixteen

     "Wait, what did you say?" Harry asked as the tailor tugged on the back of his soon-to-be tux jacket.

     "I said, Fred and George wanted to throw me a bachelor party," Ron said tiredly.  He too was standing on a pedestal, having his measurements taken.

     "Why?"

     "Because...I haven't had one, I suppose.  Watch the pins!" Ron growled as the little man accidentally sent one colliding with Ron's ankle as he pinned the hem.

     "Count me out," Harry said with finality.  "Anything they cook up will just get you into more trouble.  And me along with you."

     "Well, that's done then, isn't it?" Ron said, holding out his arms as the man slipped a jacket over his shoulders.  The material was still dotted with chalk lines.  "I mean, I can't have a party without my best friend."

     "Did you want one?" Harry asked, glancing at Ron out of the corner of his eye.

     "Well…not really.  But I think some of the girls are throwing Hermione a bachelorette party," Ron said awkwardly.

     "Girls?"  As arrogant as it seemed, Harry wasn't really aware that Hermione had many friends outside of Ron, Ginny and himself.  

     "From her office.  And Ginny," Ron explained, wincing as another pin missed its mark.  The old man was obviously not as steady of hand as he once was.  Harry sighed.

     "And you can't be outdone.  All right.  But I'm warning you—I will not be held responsible for my actions."

      Ron grinned.  "I don't think any of us will want to be, mate."

~*~

     Fred and George collaborated with Ginny to have the parties thrown on the same night.  That way, neither Ron nor Hermione would be fully conscious of the other's actions to hold them accountable for anything the next morning.  It worked like a charm.  Except for the fact that on Saturday morning, the Weasley household harbored five out of eight people with hangovers.  After breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley kindly left the house, under the pretense of shopping.  Harry guessed it was more likely to leave the group in peace and get away from all the painful moaning.

     Harry stumbled onto the couch, resting his head against the back and closing his eyes.  He mumbled in protest as the couch lurched slightly as someone joined him on the other end.

     "Harry?" the faceless voice whispered.

     "Please don't talk.  You'll only have to compete with the pounding in my head," Harry mumbled, waving away the visitor.  The person ignored him and leaned closer.

     "Harry."  He could see the person wasn't going to leave anytime soon, and he cracked one eye open.  Ginny was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, leaning forward to catch his ear.

     "We need to talk," she said urgently.

     "Can't it wait?  I can't even remember my name...no, wait I remember that.  I don't remember what I can't remember," he said foggily.  Ginny rolled her eyes and shifted closer on the couch.

     "We need to talk about the elixir," she hissed.  Harry sighed.  She wasn't going to give up.

     "What about it?"

     "Have you decided what you're putting in?"

     "No," he grumbled, anticipating a lecture.

     "Do you have any idea what you want it to symbolize?" Ginny asked, her voice pressing.

     "A faint idea.  Can't seem to recall it now, though.  Why?" Harry rubbed his temples, wishing his headache would go away.

     "I haven't a clue.  I was hoping you could help," Ginny said hopefully.  Harry snorted.  Which he immediately regretted.

     "Not right now I can't.  Aren't you supposed to be the one with big ideas about this thing anyway?"  Harry asked skeptically.

     "Just because I know what it is doesn't mean I have an idea what to put in it," Ginny responded huffily.  Harry sighed.

     "Could we please talk about this later?" he said, gritting his teeth.  Ginny finally obliged.

     "What's wrong with you?" Harry finally asked.  "Why haven't you got any problems?"

     "Because I was intelligent enough not to drink myself into oblivion, genius," Ginny said hotly.  Her tone softened.  "If you want some quiet, you could lay down in my room.  I suspect most of the others will be taken."  

     The offer certainly was enticing, Harry thought.  Fred and George had crashed in their old room, Ron in his, and Hermione in Percy's.  The only other option was the couch, which was certainly not an ideal location due to its high traffic area.  Harry grunted a "thanks" and tried not to look too excited as he climbed the stairs.

     Harry tried to ignore all the reminders of Ginny placed carefully around the room as he collapsed on the bed.  Several of the photographs were watching him with distinct interest, while others--most of her younger years, he noticed--blushed deeply and skittered out of view.  It was quiet up here, he thought with relish.  Harry noticed a picture of Ginny and Hermione on the desk beside the bed.  Hermione had her nose in a book and hadn't noticed Harry's arrival.  But Ginny was grinning broadly and Harry thought she winked at him as he shut his eyes.

     He woke up a bit later, some of the throbbing dulled.  He lifted his eyelids heavily, trying to blink back some of the sleep still crowding his mind.  He jumped as he heard an object clunk beside him and the sound of liquid hitting the floor.

     "Bloody hell," Ginny muttered, grabbing a towel hanging on the back of her door.  "I'm sorry, Harry," she said, glancing up at him as she mopped up the liquid.  It looked a dark red, and was quickly seeping through the towel

     "What are you doing?" he said groggily, propping himself up on his elbows.

     "I was trying to bring you a drink and I've spilled it all.  Fred and George have me make it for them when they get hangovers," Ginny said, pressing the towel against the floor.

     "I thought they had—"

     "Oh they have their own place.  But when they get drunk, they tend to forget that and Apparate here instead.  Makes Mum mad; says they could splinch themselves if they don't Apparate with more caution."  Ginny pursed her lips as she lifted the sopping towel.  She exited the room and quickly returned with another.  Harry watched her from the bed, not attempting to help.

     "I'm sorry," she said again, giving Harry a helpless smile.  "I guess I was just overtired and knocked over the glass."

     "Maybe you should be the one lying here," Harry suggested, sitting up fully.

     "Oh no, I didn't mean that.  No, I'm sorry.  I'm just a klutz."

     "Ginny—you are NOT a klutz," Harry said, thinking of Tonks.  "Trust me."  Ginny smiled gratefully and joined Harry on the bed with a sigh.  She looked down at the floor where the towel laid over the mess.

     "So, have you given the elixir any thought?" Ginny asked with a sigh.  Harry echoed her sigh.

     "Yes, but I haven't thought of an object to put in it," Harry said finally.  "I'm not going to tell you, or it'll ruin the surprise."

     "The surprise isn't for me!" Ginny said indignantly.  "It's for Ron and Hermione; you can tell ME."  Harry shook his head quietly.  Ginny huffed indignantly.

     "Well, maybe I won't ask for help on mine then."

     "A boy has to maintain some level of mystery," Harry said, mimicking Ginny. He lay back on the bed, his head resting on his arms.  He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes in response.

     "Then I'm not going to tell you mine either," Ginny countered.

     "All right, but it's your funeral when you don't have anything," Harry said lightly.  Ginny glared at him.

     She wondered if he knew.  Of course not.  Even if he did, he'd probably just blow her off.  She was his best friend's little sister, Ginny reminded herself time and again.  But still…Harry had never treated her like a little sister.  Once she got over her crush and got past being intimidated by him, they become close.  In fact, Ginny thought, she was part of their "group" by the beginning of their seventh year.  This thought encouraged Ginny as she glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye.  No, he was too preoccupied with other things at the moment.  He didn't need her complicating things.

     "I'll have something," she said raising her chin confidently.  Harry looked at her with a smile.  "I will!"

     "Fine, then you better get to thinking, it might just take you that long."

     "Some thanks I get for letting you use my bed!" Ginny said indignantly.  With one swift move, she yanked at the bedspread.  Harry tumbled to the floor, landing in the wet towel.

     "Ugh," he said, his hand dripping.  Ginny sat down on the bed and wrapped herself in the coverlet.  He turned around to see her situated quite comfortably on the bed.

     "I always think in bed," she said innocently.  Harry smirked and looked at her through probing eyes.  He finally threw up his hands in defeat.

     "Alright, I was awake, anyway," he said with a laugh.  He turned around to close the door behind him, his mouth open as though about to shoot off another smart comment.  He paused, closed his mouth, and smiled.  "Sweet dreams."

A/N: OK so this isn't one of my better chapters…sorry! :)


	17. Maidofhonor duties

A/N: If you are wondering from this point on, why I use italics instead of all caps to show emphasis, or thoughts, it's because it finally works for me!  I tried once before as instructed, but it didn't work *eye roll* Now it does.  I dunno why.

BlackMage: Thank you for your helpful hint! :)  How did you find that out?

Chapter Seventeen

     "A bridal shower?" Ginny screeched.  "I have to throw another party?  What do I look like—"

     "We'd rather not say," Fred said, ringing up a customer at the counter.  Ginny was visiting the twins at their joke shop, which of course, was flourishing.  She was leaning against the counter talking to George as Fred attended to the customers.  They had a few other employees but Fred and George enjoyed the business too much to allow too much help within the store.

     "Thanks.  I threw her a bachelorette party," Ginny said, starting to list the things on her fingers.

      "Which was pretty smashing by the way," said the customer Fred had just served.  He smiled and walked out of the store.  Ginny's eyes widened in shock.  She turned back to the twins who were laughing uproariously.

     "Guess you guys got around that night, didn't you?" George laughed.

     "I think that was one of the strippers," Ginny hissed.  This only made the two laugh harder.

     "Oh, go on then.  Tell us what else you've done," Fred said, still laughing.  Ginny sighed and continued.

     "I've been dress shopping with her, I licked 275 envelopes—I even got a papercut for it—I've listened to her complain about Ron's 'uncooperative attitude,' I've listened to Ron complain about Hermione's 'excessive stress,' and now I'm throwing a bridal shower!" Ginny threw up her hands in frustration.  

     "And how does she repay me?  She gets bridesmaid's dresses in mauve—_mauve_!  Hello!  Redhead!" Ginny said hotly, pointing to her hair.

     "Ginny just get over it.  Might I remind you that friends don't keep tabs?" George said, his laughter now subsided.  He looked at Ginny seriously--well, as seriously as any of the twins ever look.  Ginny blushed.

     "I know.  This is their wedding.  But I didn't know maid-of-honors had _duties_.  I mean, why can't we just enjoy the wedding?"  Ginny said, slumping against the counter.

     "You're there so that the bride can do that," Fred said, bagging a few Canary Creams for a young boy at the counter.  Ginny rolled her eyes.  Since when did Fred and George get all responsible, she wanted to know?

     "I know you didn't come here to complain to us," Fred said, turning his attention to Ginny.  Ginny smiled.

     "Not quite."

     "What can we do for you, Miss Weasel?" George asked.

     "I need you guys to do the presentation of the cup," Ginny said and held her breath.  She wasn't too sure how the guys would like being part of the actual wedding.  She knew they'd probably prefer to stand in the corner, shuffling off free samples of their pranks.

     "Splendid!" Fred cried.  He nudged George with his elbow.

     "Hear that, Georgie?  She wants our help."  George grinned.

     "I heard, Brother, I heard.  What exactly are the stipulations you're going to put on us?" George asked with a sly smile.  He clearly had plans already forming in his mind.  Fred rubbed his hands together maliciously.

     "Well…" Ginny said, hesitating.  She couldn't give them free rein, or they'd turn it into a two-man show.  "Keep it funny and…don't let on that it's magic."

      Fred frowned as he tapped his fingers on the counter.  "Are you sure you have the right people for this job?  I mean, Percy would really be better at those rules."

     George slapped Fred's shoulder and disagreed.  "Percy's such a rebel, he'd never follow any rules, especially Ginny's!"

      Ginny rolled her eyes again.

     "Will you do it?"

     "On one condition," Fred said, holding up a finger.  "No pre-screening.  It'll be much funnier for you; trust me."  Ginny bit her lower lip, contemplating this offer.  She would much rather prefer to sit back and enjoy their routine, but she couldn't do that if she already knew what was coming.  But then, if she didn't screen them, she might not be able to enjoy it anyway…

     "Agreed."

     "Really?" George asked, squinting at Ginny and sizing up her honesty.  Ginny exhaled and nodded.  "Shake," George ordered, holding out his hand.  Ginny took it and pumped it twice.

     "But please don't—" Ginny started, but Fred cut her off.

     "Nope.  Can't add rules now.  Deal's done.  Offer's closed.  Out to lunch.  Out of order.  Closed for repairs.  Gone fishing.  On holiday."

     "Ok, I get the idea!" Ginny laughed.  "Now I have to go see Hermione about a dress."

     "Fancy that! So do I!" George said coming around from behind the counter.  Fred gasped.

     "No!  We all go to the _same_ seamstress?"  He followed George and the two took Ginny arm in arm as they walked to the front of the store.  Ginny laughed and shook them off as she exited.

~*~

     "Hermione, can I ask you something?" Ginny asked, entering Hermione's dark den.  Hermione had set up in Percy's room for her research; after years of housing Percy, it was perfectly suited to such an activity, everything scientifically placed to make the process easier.  Hermione was glad she hadn't spent as much time as Percy had on such things.

     Ron had to be present at an international charity Quiddich tournament.  Working in the Gaming Department was a dream come true; he was constantly getting free tickets for Quiddich matches.  This particular match had close to the whole department present, as it was being held in England, but was a match between Argentina and Bulgaria.  They were both rather rough teams, and known for their extreme rivalry.  Hermione had taken advantage of Ron's absence by securing herself in the room and researching her fingers to the bone.

     "Yeah, sure," Hermione said absently, still scribbling away.  One large voluminous scroll sat at her feet.

     "Are you really attached to the bridesmaid's dresses?" Ginny asked, sitting on Percy's bed.  There was hardly a dent in it, and it was stiffer than a plank.  Ginny guessed Percy hadn't spent as much time in bed as he had at the desk.

     "Well, I think the cut really goes well with my dress.  I think it would be silly to have completely different styles," Hermione said, looking up from her parchment.

     "So, just the cut?"

     "Yes.  I mean, the mauve is pretty, too," Hermione said, her head tilting to the side.  "What's wrong, Ginny?"  Ginny pointed wordlessly to her hair.  It took Hermione a moment, and then she gasped.

     "Oh, I'm sorry, Ginny.  I forgot.  I can get a different color.  I'm sorry," Hermione apologized.  Ginny smiled.

     "It's OK."

     "Green!" Hermione responded.  "Emerald green.  That would be beautiful!" Hermione sighed.  Ginny frowned and looked down at the parchment in front of her friend.

     "How long have you been working in here?" 

     Hermione rubbed her eyes tiredly.  "I dunno.  Most of the day, I think.  I submitted a request for a hearing last week, because I knew I'd be finished by the end of the month.  They scheduled the hearing for August 9th."

      "No!" Ginny cried.  "They can't do that!"  Hermione sighed.

      "I don't have much choice, Ginny.  They scheduled me for the first appropriate and available time."

     "But it's the day before your wedding.  There will be _tons _of things for you to do!" Ginny said desperately.  _And if you take that court date, tons more for ME to do!_

     "Can't you ask somebody?"

     "I could, but I'd rather not.  I want to get this over." Hermione said tiredly.

     "I know, but if you have the hearing just before the wedding, you won't hear back until at least a month later, right?"

     "I honestly don't know.  I would think they would make a decision then and there," Hermione said flatly.

     "OK, so say that they do.  What if they say no?  You'll be devastated and it'll ruin your wedding and your honeymoon, because you'll brood.  If they say yes, it's all you'll think about and not be able to focus on the wedding.  You'll probably ask Ron if you can postpone the honeymoon because you'll want to get started right away," Ginny said, all her points spilling out quickly.  They seemed to strike Hermione, and she mused over what Ginny was saying.

     "But if you can get them to postpone it until after the honeymoon, then you'll be all relaxed and rested by the time you get back, and you won't appear so harried," Ginny concluded.

     "It would be nice to get away and know that all the research and work is done," Hermione said slowly.

     "Exactly!" Ginny said quickly, running with the idea. "You'll go on vacation and relax, knowing that all you have to do when you get home is present the information.  Easy!"

     "But how am I supposed to ask for another date?  I'm asking them for a favor, so I can't exactly pick and choose," Hermione said helplessly.

     "Ask your head of department if the date is workable; explain to him or her.  People love weddings, I'm sure they'll understand."  Ginny paused. "He is invited isn't he?"

     "Of course!" Hermione answered.  Ginny smiled.

     "Then he'll probably wonder why he didn't think of it himself.  And then write to the Minister.  And Dumbledore!  He's on the board.  I'm sure if you ask him, he'd help!" Ginny said.

     "I don't want to take advantage," Hermione said hesitantly.

     "Then I'll do it!" Ginny said strongly.  "I'll tell him you're too modest—which you are—and as a maid-of-honor, I am doing my duty to make the bride's job easier."

     "Thank you, Ginny," Hermione said, touched by Ginny's firm sentiments.

     "Trust me.  We'll _all_ be a lot more grateful if we can get that date changed," Ginny said, trying to ignore the vision of an overly anxious Hermione dressed in her wedding gown and asking Ron if they could stop by the Ministry on the way to the airport.  Ginny got up and gave Hermione an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder.

     "I'll see what I can do," she said as she left the room.  Ginny headed upstairs to her room.  She had to admit; she had taken on a rather intimidating task.  She just hoped she knew what to say in her owl to Dumbledore.__

_Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_         It was great to see you again when we dropped off Harry at Hogwarts!  The school hasn't changed a bit!  I don't blame any of the teachers for staying as long as they have.  I know once Harry gets back into it, he'll never want to leave!_

         _Truthfully, I am writing this letter to ask a favor.  You have heard of Hermione's new task of setting up a new office for the Enforcement of Ethical Wizardry.  She's finishing her last volume this week.  Needless to say, we're all very proud of her!  She put in a request for her hearing, and received an appointed date of August Ninth.  If that date sounds familiar, it's because it's the day before the wedding!  As much as we all love Hermione, we know that the day before her wedding is not a prudent choice for her hearing, if you know what I mean. I know this is terribly presumptuous, but I was wondering if you could help us.  Since you are going to be on the hearing board, I thought perhaps you might talk to the others as well?  All that's necessary is at least two additional weeks._

_         Hermione is too modest or she'd ask you herself.  As her maid-of-honor, I thought I'd take a few matters into my own hands._

     Ginny looked at her letter, unsure of how to end it. "Thanks?"  That would imply she knew he was going to do it.  She finally decided to add "hope to hear from you soon.  Love, Ginny."  She finished scrawling her name and whistled for Pig.  The tiny owl soared into the room, bouncing off the walls, hooting excitedly.

     "Give this to Professor Dumbledore," she said sternly.  "And mind your manners," Ginny reminded the owl before she let him fly out the window.  She couldn't help but cross her fingers hopefully as she watched Pig zigzag across the sky.

~*~

     The next morning, Ginny woke to the sound of Pig hooting as though a swarm of wasps were at his tailfeathers.  He was zooming around the room, hooting—rather, squawking—like no tomorrow.

     "PIG!" Ginny shouted, reaching for the tiny bird as he swooped past her head.  She was going to kill whoever had him this riled.  The next time Pigwidgeon made a dive bomb, Ginny reached with both hands, sandwiching him between her palms.  The only thing visible was his tiny head, which Ginny immediately regretted not clasping.  The applied pressure had only increased the frequency of his noise and also the pitch.  She quickly untied the parchment around Pig's ankle and released him.  He obliged by hurling himself through the open window and to the top of the house, where his screeching was less noticeable.  Ginny's heart leapt into her throat as she saw Dumbledore's scrawled handwriting across the front.

_Dear Ginny,_

_     It was a pleasure hearing from you.  Please do not, however, use that owl again.  I believe Fawkes gave him quite a fright, and I fear your bird may not willingly return here again_.

     Ginny rolled her eyes.  That explained the desperation of Pig's return.  It was about time someone taught that little git a lesson.

_     I'm afraid I won't be much help to the board; you see, I suddenly realized I will be out of town on the ninth, coming back the next day just in time for Hermione's wedding.  Hope to see you then._

_         Take care,_

_         Prof. Dumbledore_

Ginny folded the letter and grinned.  She knew she could count on Dumbledore.  Hearings required the presence of every board member.  If he couldn't be present at the hearing, there wouldn't be any.  She better go give Hermione the good news.


	18. Bridal showers and bonding

A/N: YOU SLAVE DRIVERS! :) No, really thank you for the reviews; reviews are like a party—the more, the merrier! :) Thanks so much!

BlackMage: thank you for being such a careful reader! :) Ah, humanity.  I'm afraid we're all a little selfish, and perhaps CH17 shows lots of it all at once for Ginny, I agree.  In Ginny's defense, Hermione is cough anal cough enough that Ginny would show up on the day of the wedding and she would say "Why are you wearing THAT?!"

Chapter Eighteen

     Harry stretched under the light sheets on his bed. Hedwig shuffled in her cage, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned. Sometimes he still felt like a Hogwarts student in that room; he always woke expecting to see Ron's long form sleeping in the next bed, with Dean and Seamus nearby as well. But the room was empty. He was alone. Again. Harry sighed and swung his feet over the side of the bed.

It had been fun, the first week, having the whole of Hogwarts to himself, Harry reflected as he pulled off his pajama top. He had gotten reacquainted with some of the old portraits—he'd had quite a lengthy discussion with the Pink Lady—and chitchatted with the ghosts. Namely Sir Nick, of course. The only presence he hadn't missed was Peeves, who insisted on screeching, "STUDENT'S LOOSE—oh, sorry, just Potter," every time he saw Harry again. Filch had stayed away, Harry recalled gratefully. He had seen Mrs. Norris shortly after arriving. She had sized him up with her golden lamp-like eyes and trotted off. He hadn't seen fur nor hair of the infamous pair since.

But the emptiness of the castle was beginning to sink into Harry. He was running out of things to do to keep him occupied. It seemed ridiculous to work on lessons eighteen hours a day. Even if he did apply that kind of attention to it, he'd be done by now anyway. Harry sighed as he entered his common room. The two little girls in bonnets were sleeping in the grass by the windmill. The older woke and saw Harry.  She stretched and waved.  Harry smiled and waved back. He wouldn't have minded getting acquainted with them, but they were painted in the distance; even if he got up close to the painting, their voices were still rather faint. Besides, they weren't any older than seven and ten. He expected that the conversation might be a bit limited.

Dobby had come to see him now and again, too. But Dobby and Winky were now on vacation; a luxury afforded because of their freedom. And so Harry was left all alone again.

~*~

"What exactly was wrong with my list," Ginny grumbled, mixing up another bowl of punch. Where exactly had all of these women come from?  She hadn't invited them.  Mrs. Weasley and Hermione had made up the guest list for the bridal shower, because—according to Mrs. Weasley--Ginny's own list was shoddy.  The end result of Mrs. Weasley and Hermione's list was another house like the engagement party, only with much younger women. There were less people, but you wouldn't have guessed by the noise level.

They held the party at the Granger's this time, so that Mrs. Granger could invite her friends. Mrs. Weasley had instructed that all witches arrive with Muggle gifts otherwise drop it off at the Burrow. Most of the witches had obliged and managed to find something appropriate; others dropped off the gift at the Burrow, claiming when they arrived to have forgotten it at home, and could she drop it by some other time?

"Ginny, dear, why don't you go out to the main room? Hermione will be opening her presents soon. It's always fun to see that," Mrs. Weasley offered, taking the punch bowl out to the dining room.

"Thanks, Mum," Ginny said tiredly. She had stayed up a bit too late the night before, setting up last minute decorations. She now regretted this, as the party atmosphere had also sapped a lot of her energy. One of the ladies saw Ginny coming and made room on the couch for her. Ginny sank into the spot tiredly.

"Where's Ron, Hermione?" asked one of Hermione's coworkers. Glancing around the room, Ginny realized Luna was the only person who looked remotely familiar. The room erupted into giggles. Ginny wasn't quite sure what was so funny.

"Oh, you know guys. The minute a crowd shows up, they're out the door," said another woman, as she handed Hermione a box wrapped in silvery paper. This got the group going again as they all swapped amusing stories of the cute things their boyfriends did. Ginny opened her mouth, but then realized she had nothing to say. Proclaiming that her boyfriend once continually burped at a Christmas party until everyone avoided him sounded…pretty stupid. Ginny shut her mouth and sank back into the couch, feeling like an awkward preteen.

Ginny was surprised at how easily Hermione was swapping small talk with all the ladies in the room. She did notice that Hermione gracefully kept any "Ron bashing" out of the conversation, despite the fact that most of the women had turned to that topic after discussing the cute things guys did. As much as Ginny wanted to share a few stories of her own, she refrained, not wishing to cause an uproar. Which is what stories about her boyfriends generally did.

The gifts piled beside Hermione's chair. Everything from a toaster to a photo album had been unwrapped. Mrs. Granger was in the corner, taking notes of who gave what for Hermione's thank you card list. Ginny squirmed anxiously when someone handed Hermione the present from her. She hadn't gotten Hermione anything like what those women were giving her. She was a little nervous about the reception it would receive.

Hermione unwrapped the yellow paper, placing it carefully in the trash bag open by her feet. She looked at it, her face not registering any emotion. She looked up at Ginny and smiled.

"Thank you," she said with a bright smile. Most of the other women were chattering away at this point and weren't watching the revealing of the presents. She held up the book to her mother who laughed. It was _What Every Bride Should Know, But Doesn't Want to_:_ Tales of Horror Weddings_; the book was humorous, but provided many tips of what NOT to do for a wedding.

After everyone had left, Ginny began cleaning up in the parlor.  She heard voices in the kitchen, and eager to put off the mess, she ventured to see what the talk was.  Hermione and her mother were bent over the kitchen island pointing to a black and white diagram, their eyes alight.  Hermione was gesturing to the sheet excitedly.  As Ginny drew near, she could see it was the sewing plans for the bridesmaid's dresses.  Hermione picked up a swatch of cloth pinned to the diagram.  It was a shimmery emerald green that caught the light.

     "This is the fabric," Hermione said, unpinning it and handing it to her mother.  Her mother smiled.

     "I love it!" She said, her arm resting over her daughter's shoulders.  Hermione glanced up at Ginny and grinned.

     "It was Ginny's idea."

     "No, it wasn't," Ginny said quickly.  "I was whining—yes, Hermione, whining—about the first color and Hermione was generous enough to pacify me," Ginny said strongly, coming around to the opposite side of the island.

     "I told you, Gin, I wasn't attached to that color.  It was just the color the mannequin had on in the store.  It's very easy to have ones remade in a different fabric."  Mrs. Granger looked up at Hermione from the diagram.  "It was mauve," Hermione said.

     Mrs. Granger glanced at Ginny, her eyes flicking upward toward the girl's hair and back down again. "Oh." She said with an understanding smile.

     "Green is your father's favorite color, anyway," Mrs. Granger said, still smiling.  Hermione rolled her eyes.

     "I am not scarred over this!" she said in frustration.  Ginny looked at her apologetically, and Hermione laughed.  "Really!"  She came around the counter to give Ginny a tight hug.

"Thanks, Gin," she said. "For everything.  Really." Ginny blushed.

     "I liked that book," Mrs. Granger commented.

     "Oh!" Hermione said, running from the room to retrieve the item.  She returned, holding it up and grinning.  "I glanced through a few pages.  It's funny."

     "Well, you two relax.  I'm going to tackle that parlor," Mrs. Granger said with determination.  She chucked Hermione under the chin affectionately and exited the room.  As she swept past Ginny she whispered, "I've never liked mauve, anyway."  Ginny grinned.

     "Thanks, Ginny," Hermione repeated.

"You're welcome. I thought you could use some light reading, now that you're done with your research," said Ginny, folding up the diagram.

"Thank goodness that's done." Hermione sighed. "But this book: I was—am—nervous about the wedding. But after reading some of these I realize mine won't possibly be this bad!" Ginny laughed.

"That's the spirit!" They heard a sharp CRACK and a shriek come from the parlor.

"Sorry, sorry!" a familiar voice said. _Harry_, Ginny thought. The two girls quickened their pace. They found Mrs. Granger by the armchair, her hand at her throat. Harry was standing by the coffee table, apologizing profusely. He saw the girls enter and began apologizing even more.

"I stopped by the Burrow and Mr. Weasley said everyone was over here. I thought I'd pop in; I forgot you aren't used to Apparating!" Harry said, addressing himself to Mrs. Granger.

"Not without warning, anyway," Hermione said, trying not to laugh.

"It's quite all right, dear. I do tend to forget about these things. How are you, Harry?" Mrs. Granger said breathlessly. Harry helped her to her feet.

"I'm fine, thank you. I am sorry."

"I know, dear," she said, summoning a smile for him. Ginny and Hermione were fighting off laughter at Harry's pained look.

"You'd think he just broke her favorite vase," Ginny said to Hermione, both of them now giggling.

"I thought I just sent your mother into cardiac arrest," Harry said weakly, a smile tugging at his mouth. Mrs. Granger laughed.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry. I do frighten easily." She began picking up some of the gifts and clearing the crumbs off the table. "Sit down, Harry, dear."

"She does, Harry, don't worry. Daddy calls her his Red Hen, because of that story about the hen who thought the sky was falling."

Mrs. Granger swatted her daughter's behind.

"No need to divulge all the family secrets, dear," she said, whisking out of the room, a slight flush to her cheeks. Harry took a seat on the couch, still looking apologetic. The humor of the situation was beginning to get to him, though and he was smiling again.

"Why did you stop by the Burrow?" Hermione asked, taking the armchair perpendicular to the couch. Ginny noticed the amount of space on the couch, but forced herself to sit in the armchair opposite Hermione's.

"Came to see all of you. That's where everyone has been for the last 3 months. I thought that's where I'd find you."

"Did Dad tell you we were having a party here?" Ginny asked.

"No," Harry said with confusion. "He just said 'all the girls are at Hermione's. Ron's at a match.' He started discreetly quizzing me about Muggle electricity and I made my exit."

"It's a good thing you didn't come sooner, we had a house full of Muggles! That would have been messy business," Hermione said. Harry cringed. That indeed, would have taken some sorting out on his part. No doubt Hermione would have jumped up with a quick memory charm and saved his arse, though. _What would Ginny have done? _Harry wondered, turning his gaze to her discreetly. He knew very well what she would have done: she would have just laughed at him, her eyes dancing in amusement at his awkward situation.

"We haven't seen you for awhile," Hermione said. Harry jerked his attention back to Hermione.

"Getting settled in at school," Harry said. "Not too much has changed. In fact, I don't think anything has changed."

"Good old Hogwarts," Ginny sighed. "Have you seen your classroom?"

"Believe me, I've seen everything," Harry said, a hint of boredom in his voice. "The classroom was cleared, scrubbed, and set up; all it's missing is a few students."

"You'll get those soon enough," Hermione said confidently.

The three spent the remainder of the afternoon cleaning the Grangers' house and talking. They went out to dinner afterward before Ginny returned to the Burrow and Harry departed for Hogwarts.

When Harry returned home, his empty room seemed lonelier than ever.

~*~

"He did it!" Hermione screeched, pounding on Ginny's bedroom door a few days after the bridal shower. Without waiting for a response, she opened it.

"Look!" Hermione shoved a piece of paper underneath Ginny's nose. Ginny had previously been working down the list of people who had RSVP'd for the wedding. Ginny grabbed the official-looking parchment and looked it over carefully. Apparently, the Ministry regretted to inform Ms. Granger that the date of August ninth was unfortunately an inconvenient date due to a significant fact previously overlooked; and another hearing was rescheduled to address the previous request on September 15.

"I told you," Ginny said dryly, handing the paper back to Hermione. Honestly, couldn't you take anyone's word anymore?

"I know. But this is official. Thank you, Ginny!" Hermione said, hugging her friend. "I finished my last volume today. Now I can focus on the wedding. Here, I'll take that."

Hermione grabbed the list off of Ginny's desk and began scrutinizing it. She paused, and ran down the list again.

"Antius isn't on here," she said, looking at Ginny. "I told you that you could invite him."

"I know," Ginny said, nervously twisting her quill. Hermione looked at Ginny carefully.

"You're not seeing him anymore, are you?" Hermione said finally, a grin breaking out.

"You don't have to be so happy about it," Ginny muttered, snatching the paper out of Hermione's hands.

"Ginny, that's great!" Hermione said, practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"Well, not really," Ginny said sharply. "I mean, who wants to be single when a wedding rolls around?"

"Oh you will, trust me," Hermione said. "It's easier to snog the best man."

"Hermione, Harry's the best man," Ginny said, stupidly leaving herself wide open for any commentary.

"You're a quick one," Hermione grinned, tapping Ginny's head. Ginny blushed, and brushed off Hermione's hand.

"Can't I just not have a boyfriend for a little while?" Ginny asked indignantly.

"You're the one who just said you didn't want to be single when the wedding comes. Neither does Harry; so, I was just thinking," Hermione said innocently.

"Yeah, well, stop." Ginny retorted. She really didn't need her whole family finding out that she still liked Harry. Evidently it had been a bit too obvious when she was younger and she didn't intend to suffer the same humiliation again.

"All right, all right," Hermione said defensively, a grin still on her face. "I'm going to tell Mum." Hermione clutched the letter in her hand and skipped downstairs to share the news with the Weasleys before she headed home.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

OK people, I don't want to be a review whore, but really….


	19. Words on the Quiddich field

Thank you reviewers!!!! Happiness abounds! :) Carry on, then!

Chapter Nineteen

     "Hagrid told me I'd find you out here," a voice shouted up at Harry. He was soaring freely over the Quiddich field when he pulled to a stop at the sound of a visitor. He looked down to see a very tall mop of red hair striding closer to the center of the field. Harry grinned and dive-bombed his friend.

     "Hey, Ron," he said, pulling to a stop breathlessly. "How's life?"

     "Not terrible," Ron said, glancing at the broomstick. "Wouldn't happen to have an extra lying around, would you?"

     " 'Fraid not," Harry said, still gulping air from his hasty descent. He was bent slightly, hands on his knees. "Out of shape," he said up at Ron with a grin.

"Pity. Thought we could take a spin." Ron's demeanor was somewhat subdued, Harry noticed.

"What's eating you?" Harry asked, standing up straight. Ron shrugged.

"We haven't seen much of each other," he said carelessly. Harry hitched the broom over his shoulder and motioned for them to walk.

"Right," Harry said uncertainly. It was true; Quiddich season was in full swing and Ron's department had naturally kept him occupied. Between that and Harry's relocation to Hogwarts, the two had been separated more frequently.

"Got a letter from Bill," Ron said absently, trying to think of something to say.

"How's he?" Harry asked, glancing out at the field. He had been trying to catch the Snitch, but he supposed he could come back later and see if it was still around…

"Good. Talked mostly about Zack," Ron said with a laugh. His nephew, Zack, was a rollicking three-year-old and Bill was nothing less than a proud father. Cheslea, or Chessie as she preferred so not to be confused as Chelsea, had met Bill when he was on a trip to France with his then-girlfriend Fleur. He then bumped into her again at Gringotts when she was acting as an overseas ambassador for the French Wizard Bank. The Weasleys had all guessed it would end with a marriage, seeing as Bill had left Fleur (a feat Ron found impossible) for her. The two were living very happily a few hours away in the little town of Delafort.

"I suppose that's natural," Harry said, smiling.

"Yeah. Hermione talked me into letting Zack be part of the wedding party, though I think she's mental," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Well, she probably is. She's marrying you after all," Harry said lightly.

"Yeah," Ron said, kicking at the ground. The sarcastic comment hadn't sat well with Ron. Harry noticed Ron's demeanor had only become more solemn and they passed a moment in silence.

"You're not getting cold feet, are you?" Harry asked slowly.

"I dunno. Seems a big step, doesn't it?" Ron said, looking up. The two had stopped walking.

"Sure. But Ron, you could put it off for ten years, and it'd be the same. It'd still be Hermione," Harry said seriously. Ron considered the comment.

"We're kind of young, Harry," Ron said hesitantly.

"So what?" Harry said, waving off the comment carelessly. They started walking again, with no particular direction or destination. "I stick to my original point."

"Harry, I can't be a dad!" Ron burst out suddenly. Harry stopped short.

"Ron, is Hermione pregnant?" he asked quietly and gravely. Ron's face registered open shock.

"No! At least I don't think so," he said, then catching himself, he shouted again, "No!" Harry breathed a sigh of relief and they continued walking again.

"I was just thinking, you know. I mean, one day it'll probably happen, right?"

"Probably. I wouldn't think anytime soon," Harry said confidently. "Hermione's got that new office and she won't have any time for a kid. You obviously still want to enjoy your youth."

"Harry, Bill's got a three year old kid and another on the way—"

"Really? Congratulations!" Harry said.

"Not me, you dope," Ron growled. "But he's quite a bit older than I am. I'm going to be the second one in the family to be married and I'm the 2nd to youngest!" Ron said harshly, holding up two fingers.

"So?" Harry wasn't seeing the problem.

"So? So?" Ron said, his voice level rising with his frustration. He paused. Ron had begun to lose sight of the problem as well apparently, as his anger was beginning to ebb. He paused a moment, trying to regain his bearings. "Damn, I forgot."

"See?" Harry said, patting Ron on the shoulder. This seemed to trigger Ron's memory.

"Oh! Everyone else is having a grand old time, and I'm tying myself down."

"Ron, as I seem to recall, you prefer NOT to follow in your brothers' footsteps," Harry said, musing over all the years he'd known Ron and Ron's eagerness to be seen as an individual. "By doing this, you'll be setting a precedent over their heads. You'll have to be the one they look up to. Pretty soon Mum will be saying to Charlie, '_Now why can't you and Danica just settle down like Ron did?'_ Even Percy will get the old one-two."

This idea seemed to cheer Ron considerably. His step was a bit lighter and Harry could see a smile tugging at his friend's mouth.

"Can you imagine the look on Percy's face when Mum tells him he should be more like me?" Ron finally said with a grin. Harry laughed.

"He'd probably keel over."

" '_I'll get right on it, Mum,' _" Ron said, imitating Percy. Harry could see the humor returning to Ron and he felt it safe to approach other subjects.

"So who did I beat out for best man?" Harry asked.

"Oh, not much competition there," Ron said with a laugh. "Bill, Charlie, Percy. Fred and George expressly forbidden under threat of death. Two of Hermione's cousins are ushers, I think. Bob and Sam or something monosyllabic like that," Ron said distastefully.

"Like Ron?" Harry asked. Ron grinned.

"That sounds familiar."

"How's the house hunting going?" Harry asked, as they meandered along the edge of the lake.

"Not so well. Can't seem to find anything. We want a house, but everything just seems too big. We wouldn't be happy in a flat because we know we'd eventually have to move out," Ron said tiredly. "I'm beginning to think we've looked at every house from here to Wales."

"What would you be doing in _Wales_?" Harry said with a touch of disbelief.

"We won't, if I have anything to say," said Ron.

The two walked around the grounds a bit more, not interested in going inside. Topics ranged from the wedding (inevitably) to the latest Quiddich match, to Harry's upcoming semester, and the most notorious pet Hagrid ever owned. Strolling around the grounds of Hogwarts with his best friend made Harry a little nostalgic as he recalled the similar sense of security and home he had often felt as a student at Hogwarts. Then he recalled the bittersweet moments of the years that invariably included Voldemort. And there, with his best friend telling him that there really wasn't any competition to be seen in the upcoming match between Puddlemere and the Cannons, Harry realized that even the unadulterated joy of his past at Hogwarts couldn't compare to the security and rightness of the present.

~*~

"No, no NOOOOOOO!" the high-pitched scream tore through the store. Ginny, Ron and Hermione cringed collectively, fighting the urge to clap their hands over their ears. Hermione's six-year-old cousin Kiki had fought for the position of flower girl, and now she was clearly fighting the position itself. Hermione's aunt, Mrs. Granger's younger sister, came out of the dressing room tiredly.

"She won't come out," she said flatly.

"Really?" Ron asked, not bothering the keep the sarcasm out of his tone. Ginny nudged her brother slightly and he fell silent.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked with concern.

"She didn't think she'd have to wear a dress. I'm so sorry, Hermione." The woman had her hair tied back in a ponytail, but quite a bit had come loose as she had fought her daughter in the dressing room stall.

"Maybe she doesn't like the color," Ginny said, suppressing laughter. Hermione glanced at her friend, a slight smile on her own lips.

"It's all right, Aunt Millie."

"No, it's not. I really thought that for this one thing, she would give and wear a dress."

"She could switch with Zack," Ron chimed in. "He wouldn't know the difference."

"We are not putting your nephew in a dress," Hermione said tightly. Ron shrugged and Ginny nudged him again. See if he gave them any more suggestions.

"Kiki," Hermione said, knocking on the door. No answer. "Can I see the dress?"

"No." came the stern reply.

"No? But I need to see how it looks for the wedding."

"I'm not wearing a dress."

"That's too bad. _My_ flower girl wears a dress. Guess I'll have to find someone else," Hermione said lightly. She heard the catch of breath on the other side of the door.

"Oh, can I do it? I changed my mind, I don't want to be the groom," Ron said. Hermione shot her fiancé a look of warning and he fell silent again. Aunt Millie glanced at Ron and then at Ginny with a look of curiosity.

"He doesn't do the shopping thing well," Ginny said quietly, patting her brother's arm as though he were mentally unstable.

"Aunt Millie, didn't Alice want to be flower girl?" Hermione asked, referring to Kiki's older sister. Alice was nineteen and already insured as a bridesmaid, but it was well known that Kiki was insanely jealous of her older sister.

"I think she did," Millie said loudly, her voice carrying through the stall door. "In fact, I think she had already has a dress."

"Good. Kiki, give me that dress back. You don't have to wear it after all." Hermione said loudly to the stall door. The door suddenly swung open to reveal a very miffed six-year-old in a white dress with an emerald green smock. She glared at her mother and then at Hermione. Hermione smiled slightly.

"You'll have to take it off for me to give it back," she said.

"I'm the flower girl," Kiki said darkly.

"Oh? I thought you didn't wear dresses," Hermione said with mock surprise.

"I'm the flower girl," Kiki repeated.

"My flower girl has to wear—"

"I'm the flower girl," Kiki repeated through gritted teeth.

"I'm glad to hear that," Hermione said, kneeling down. "You look beautiful." This soft comment caught Kiki off guard and she glanced at her mother. Aunt Millie nodded.

"Not Alice."

"No way," Hermione said. "But if you don't wear that dress, Alice just might."

"I'd like to see her try," Ron whispered to Ginny, who nudged him in the ribs a bit harder this time. Kiki sighed and, resolved, shut the door to the stall to take off the dress. Hermione returned to the party.

"Thank you, Hermione," Aunt Millie said. "Richard says she's just 'asserting her independence' but I think she has a streak of B-R-A-T."

"No problem. Although that ploy may not work for long. I have a feeling that by the time the wedding rolls around, she'll be ready to renegotiate."

"I hope you could get another flower girl," Aunt Millie said, wringing her hands. "If it gets to that point, I'd prefer you just took it away and found someone else."

"I'll figure out something," Hermione said confidently.

"She always does!" Ron said brightly. Ginny nudged him in the ribs again.

"What was that for?" he demanded, glaring at his younger sister.

"Reflex, sorry," Ginny said with a grin.


	20. We have liftoff!

Chapter Twenty

"And this?" Ginny held up a casserole dish.

"Aunt…no, _Great_-Aunt Josephine," Hermione said with a yawn. She and Ginny were going through the gifts making a list of who to write thank-yous to, and who had thank-yous already sent. "Yes."

"Right-o," Ginny said, making a check on her list. She held up a set of glass measuring cups.

"Mr. and Mrs. Perkins; yes," Hermione said, while packing some of the gifts already checked into a large box. They were beginning to sort through the presents and have them sent to the house. Miracle of miracles, they had found a small three-bedroom cottage in a "respectable wizarding neighborhood." The backyard already had a swing set and tree house, which Ginny noticed had caused Ron's left eye to twitch. The house was old and in need of slight repair, but nothing drastic. Hermione had fallen in love with it, and Ginny could tell Ron had too, even if he did complain about what a "fixer-upper" it was going to be.

"Isn't that Dad's co-something or other?" Ginny asked, making a note on her list. Hermione nodded. Ginny picked up a rather hideous picture frame of gilded gold with tiny enamel doves holding banners that proclaimed "LOVE."

"And this—" Ginny hesitated, unsure of what to call it. Hermione grimaced.

"Eloise Barker; yes. A neighbor girl I grew up with. Always had atrocious taste," Hermione said, closing the top of the box she had just filled. "That's enough for now, Gin. We can finish tomorrow."

The two trooped into the Grangers kitchen to pour glasses of lemonade. All the presents had been sent to the Granger house, a gesture respecting the already over-crowded proportions of the Burrow.

"Nervous yet?" Ginny asked, taking her glass from Hermione. Hermione poured herself a glass before answering.

"A little. Hard to believe the wedding's next week, though," Hermione said, a touch of exhaustion in her voice. "The florist was a complete ass today when I asked if he could make two more settings for the tables we added. You'd think I'm not paying the man a small fortune with the way he acted."

"Well, you just tell him you won't recommend him to all your engaged friends," Ginny said, her eyebrows dancing.

"I don't have any," Hermione said in confusion.

"He doesn't know that," Ginny said slyly. "What about the cake?"

"Oh, that's not a problem. The baker is so accommodating. I could ask her to fly it in on a small biplane and I don't think she'd bat an eye," Hermione said appreciatively. She took a sip of her drink. "All the tuxes are ordered, the bridesmaids dresses came in yesterday and all the girls come in tomorrow for a double-check on the fit. Kiki is still holding on to her position and Ron hasn't collapsed yet."

"I think he'll stick it through," Ginny said knowingly. "He's not likely to give up yet." Hermione just smiled.

     "I'm still having a hard time believing the wedding is next week.  And then it will all be over," Hermione said almost wistfully.  Then she sighed.  "I'll miss it, but then again I won't."

     Ginny nodded.  She knew exactly what she meant.

     "Photographer?" Ginny asked as the girls returned to sit in the parlor and prop their feet on the coffee table.

     "All set and ready to go for the big day.  He's taking a few candid shots as well as the typical wedding party ones," Hermione said, leaning against the couch tiredly.

     "Caterer?" Ginny asked, trying to go through the list of arrangements made.

     "Submitted the menu two weeks ago," Hermione said.  "Got a call yesterday to reassure me that everything was going well."

     "Church?"

     "No conflicts so far, though I've been warned that should a death occur within the parish it would take priority, unfortunate as that may be," Hermione sighed.  "I checked and no one is undergoing any kind of cancer treatment or has been sick for a period of time.  So keep your fingers crossed."

     "Sounds like you have everything splendidly under control," Ginny said cheerily, taking a sip of lemonade.

     "Hopefully.  I don't rule out the fact I'm probably missing some little detail."

     "I doubt that," Ginny said confidently.  "Maybe you can plan my wedding."

     "As long as you don't get married for another two years, I dunno if I can take it," Hermione said with a wry smile.

     "You're in luck.  The photographer proposed but said he was booked solid until 2007," Ginny replied.

     "With an offer like that, how could you refuse?"  Hermione laughed.

     "That's what I said!" The two laughed, eager to put their exhaustion behind them.

     "Now what about this something old, new, borrowed and blue?" Ginny asked, remembering the list Mrs. Granger had given her the other day of things to double-check.

     "Old would be my grandmother's necklace.  New would of course be the dress.  I'm borrowing your sanity for the day, and blue is this ring," Hermione said, glancing at the penny ring she had on her pinky.  It was a mere trinket, more a child's toy, that Ron had given her a year ago as a joke.  She had worn it on her right pinky ever since.

     "You're borrowing my _what_?" Ginny asked in disbelief.  "Sorry, I don't have much to lend."

     Hermione laughed.  "That's true.  Guess I'll have to come up with something, huh?"

     "What's the necklace look like?"

     "Thin gold strand with a single pearl," Hermione said thoughtfully.

     "I have some pearl earrings.  Don't think they're real," Ginny answered.  She made a mental note to give them to Hermione tomorrow.

     "That'll do," Hermione nodded.  She yawned and stretched.

     "C'mon," she said, standing up regretfully.  "Let's get some sleep while we can.  I think that we won't have much opportunity to next week."

     Ginny sighed and nodded.  She followed Hermione upstairs, but separated at the top of the stairs as Ginny took the guest room and Hermione returned to her former bedroom.  Ginny closed the door and leaned against it, feeling the exhaustion and anticipation to come.  She glanced at her bed, knowing that tomorrow was only one day closer to the wedding; "T-minus 6 days…and counting…"

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Short chappie, but thank you for all the great reviews!


	21. Let the chaos begin!

Chapter Twenty-One

Harry glanced in the mirror one last time before heading out the door. The rehearsal dinner started in a half-hour. His door shut behind him with a snap that echoed along the empty hall. He was Apparating to the Stop-By, a special wizard lobby for wizards who had to take the underground. There was one located at every stop, usually behind a poster of some kind.  Harry's stop was behind a brightly colored poster for an alcoholic drink. Wizards waited inside until their train came through; at that time, there was too much of a crowd for anyone to notice several people walking out of the wall.

Inside, witches and wizards milled about, each awaiting an appointment in the Muggle world. Harry had a few minutes before his train came; he sat down and picked up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ to keep him occupied. While in the midst of reading about the England Minister of Magic's thoughts on creating a new wizardry school, a friendly voice alerted Harry to the approach of his train. He folded up the paper, and joined a few wizards waiting by the "door," which was really just a reverse copy of the beverage poster.

Harry joined the bustling crowd and boarded a car. It sped right along, everyone swaying with the movement. He stayed on through a few stops, and exited after watching the map discreetly through the entire ride. Harry emerged onto the street above and immediately noticed the chapel a few blocks away. He felt a surge of relief wash over him and he journeyed toward it with a confident step.

Harry could practically feel the tension. Ginny ran past, glancing at him as she did so.

"Hi, Harry," she said, still going. She ran past him moments later, holding a roll of masking tape.

"Be right with you!" she called over her shoulder, now running in the opposite direction. Harry waited and a few moments later Ginny returned, pushing her hair out of her face.

"Hermione is driving me nuts," she whispered with a worn-out sigh. "I don't know what, but maybe she should be in that book bout horror weddings."

"She can't be that bad," Harry said with a laugh.

"No, not really. She's just had me running everywhere. Whoever said a wedding was a blessed event was a bloody fool. It's taken three years off my life. The guys are hiding back there," Ginny said, motioning to the front of the church. Harry noticed a door behind the choir and he nodded.

"Ginny! Can you help me?" They heard a cry echo from the hall to their left. Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed.

"You are beyond help," she muttered, dashing off to answer Hermione.

Harry laughed and sauntered to the front of the sanctuary. It was cute, established mostly of deep maple: the pews, altar and even the exposed beams overhead. The muted red carpet spilled from the altar area and ran down the center and side aisles. Two fancy multi-tiered candleholders were set up next to the altar for the wedding; their brand new wax contrasting with the used candles sitting next to the sacristan.

Harry opened the door to find Ron and the groomsmen lounging in a medium sized room. It was clearly used for the choir and rehearsing, as the walls were strewed with music memorabilia and inspiration. A small piano for practicing stood on the opposite wall. Another door in the back presumably led to a hallway, but no one was going to be bothering them. All the men had a beer in their hands and were looking at Harry expectantly. Percy seemed to be the only uncomfortable one, sitting rigidly on the piano bench. The other men had pulled up chairs from the long table in the corner and had their feet up as they spoke jovially.

"Harry!" Bill said, lifting his beer in acknowledgement. He was leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on the table. "Pull up a chair!" Harry obliged and faced the bright-eyed crew.

"Just trying to lift Ron's spirits here," Charlie said with a grin. He was sitting backwards in his chair, facing Bill, arms propped on the back. He motioned to Ron who was sitting morosely in the chair beside Bill.

"Cheer up, Ronnie-kins," George said, from his post by the door.

"Yeah, at least you're not marrying Luna," Fred said encouragingly. Harry nudged Ron.

"You all right?" he asked in a low voice. Ron turned to him and shrugged.

"Poor boy's in a state of shock," Bill said, taking a swig of his drink. "Not unusual."

"Yeah, weren't you crying the morning of your wedding?" Charlie asked with a grin.

"Like a baby," Fred answered. He was leaning against the piano, occasionally poking Percy's shoulder with a conductor's baton he had found.

"I was—happy," Bill said. George laughed.

"Oh is THAT what happy looks like? I guess I get it confused with stricken terror, too." The men in the room laughed and Bill grinned sheepishly.

"Don't you worry, Ron, it'll be me next," Charlie said lifting his beer to his lips. "Danica's been hinting dawn until dusk. Personally, I blame you for this whole wedding catastrophe putting it in her head." Ron looked up at the word catastrophe.

"He didn't mean it that way," Harry said quickly. Charlie glanced at Ron's stricken face and cringed.

"Oops," he said. Bill leaned across Ron to speak to Harry.

"Why don't you take him outside, eh, Harry?" Harry nodded slapped Ron's shoulder.

"C'mon let's get out of here," he said. Ron stood heavily and trudged out the back door to the hallway. Zack ran past, giggling, with Chessie close behind.

"Sorry, guys," she said breathlessly. "Zack give that back to Mommy." Ron and Harry watched as the two turned the corner, Chessie close on Zack's heels.

"How are you, Ron?" Harry asked, squinting at his friend. Ron shrugged. They were quite a moment, Harry unsure of what to say. Or if he should say anything.

"Do you think she's doing the right thing?" Ron asked suddenly, turning to Harry with worried eyes.

"Hermione? She seems to think so," Harry said solemnly. Ron lapsed back into silence. "Look, Ron, I think we all know that Hermione only does what she wants to do, which of course, means the most logical thing."

"Yeah…except for all the times we got her to do things she didn't want to do," Ron said sullenly, kicking at the tile floor.

"Even then, she wouldn't have done it if she didn't feel on some level it was right," Harry answered, trying to reassure Ron.

"I can't believe this. I mean, how many people marry a childhood friend?" Ron said skeptically.

"Not enough of us are that lucky," Harry said honestly, placing a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder. "You get to marry your best friend—besides me of course," Harry said with a grin. "But really, that's the kind of marriage to have."

Ron sighed. "I have this weird fear that she's going to back out at the last minute."

"Are you crazy?" Harry asked, pulling Ron to a door that led to the sanctuary. He opened it so that Ron could see the preparations set up for tomorrow. "Too much work has gone into this; she wouldn't even THINK about backing out now." A wry smile came to Ron's lips.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Of course I am. I've been telling you that for years," Harry said confidently, shutting the door again. "Just ignore the guys. It's part of their job to joke. Do you really think Bill would still be married if he hated it so much? Or that Charlie would still be going with Danica if he knew it would end in marriage? And Percy's probably just jealous."

"Percy hasn't said anything," Ron said quietly.

"Exactly! He's brooding in envy. You better be careful or he might hijack the wedding tomorrow," Harry said. Ron smiled.

The two laughed, picturing Percy shoving Ron out of the way at the altar and Hermione in turn, running down the aisle, horrified. Harry glanced at his watch.

"C'mon, better get in there or Hermione might find another groom," Harry teased, shoving Ron through the door.

"She'd be hard-pressed; I don't there are any more crazy enough," Ron laughed, his good humor returned.

~*~

The rehearsal had gone without a hitch. Well, as hitch-free as it could go with a three-year-old on the loose. Zack insisted on stealing the flower girl's basket, which infuriated Kiki, Hermione's six-year-old cousin who took her duty seriously. Ginny had to take Kiki aside after the rehearsal and advise her that should that happen during the ceremony, keep walking, and let Zack pretend he's "helping." Kiki had glared at Ginny with disapproval but agreed not to fuss under penalty of death. That, and Ginny promised an extra-large piece of cake the next day.

During the rehearsal, Fred and George sat in the front pew, critiquing the ceremony. Somewhere toward the end, Fred sat up suddenly, and stared at the groomsmen as if noticing them for the first time.

"Hold on—they just stand there?" he asked, looking at George incredulously. George frowned and looked at Harry, Bill, Charlie, and Percy with scrutiny.

"Looks like it."

"Well, bloody hell we could have done that!" Fred said indignantly. "I'm having a word with Ron."

Harry smiled to himself. Clearly, Ron had turned the twins off to the duty by making it sound as though it were a task they would find highly inconvenient.

After the rehearsal, everyone trooped back to the social hall of the church, where the reception would be held tomorrow after the wedding.

At dinner, the immediate wedding party sat at one table. Harry carefully positioned himself next to Ginny. He noticed that George kept coming over to the table—the twins were forbidden from being groomsmen—to flirt shamelessly with Alice, Hermione's cousin and bridesmaid. Percy, who was "assigned" to walk with Alice the next day took this duty very seriously and tried shooting George death glares. Bill and Chessie finally sat back and enjoyed themselves because they dropped Zack off at Chessie's mother's house before coming to the dinner. Charlie and Danica were sitting very close. If Harry didn't get his act together, Charlie WOULD be married next. Ron had gotten over his foul mood and was now cozied up beside Hermione. With everyone at the table paired, Harry discovered—much to his satisfaction—he had Ginny to himself.

Unfortunately, she wasn't especially social. Ginny had her head propped up in one hand, elbow resting on the table as she stared at her plate. Harry nudged her gently.

"Tired?" he asked with a smile. Ginny started and looked up at him.

"A little," she confessed, a smile lighting her face.

"It's almost over," Harry said encouragingly. Ginny's smile flickered.

"I know. It's kind of sad, though."

"Sad? I thought you were exhausted!" Harry said.

"Don't get me wrong, it's hard work. But look at them," Ginny said, motioning to Ron and Hermione who were laughing together. "They're so happy. I want this to last forever for them."

"It will."

"No, I mean this moment. This moment of perfection and peace," Ginny said, glancing at her brother and his fiancée wistfully. Harry followed her gaze and agreed. Ron and Hermione were looking at each other warmly. It was enough for anyone to turn to mush.

Fred interrupted Harry and Ginny, just then, popping his head between theirs.

"How we doing, kiddies?" he asked brightly. "No snogging? Well, I'll get out of the way in a minute," he grinned. Ginny glared at Fred.

"Speak and go," she ordered.

"Feisty, isn't she, Harry?" Fred asked, waggling his eyebrows at Harry.

"What do you want, Fred?" Harry asked, feigning disinterest.

"Make sure we're on for tomorrow," he said. "Ginny, when did you want this done?"

"I haven't a clue," she said tiredly. "I'm tired of planning. Can we just play it by ear?"

"Ginny, I haven't loved you more than I do at this moment!" Fred said brightly, giving his sister a big smack on the cheek. She laughed and pushed him away.

"Just one thing: tomorrow, tell Kiki where it is, she's bringing it to us," Fred said, thumbing in the direction of the six year old sleeping in the corner.

"How did you win her over?" Ginny asked, amazed.

"Funny thing, Ton-Tongues," Fred said absently. Ginny gasped.

"You didn't!" She burst out loudly. Fred laughed.

"No, but George demonstrated one for her. She was so impressed, she's been following him around like a lost puppy. Her mother is going to think she's one hell of a little liar," Fred said with a laugh. As far as the Weasleys knew, the rest of Hermione's family wasn't magical. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief.

"All right, I'll tell her," Ginny agreed. Fred trotted off, giving them a wink as he did so.

"They're so embarrassing, sometimes, I swear," Ginny apologized. Harry smiled.

"It's OK. Have you heard their presentation?" Harry asked. Ginny cringed.

"It was part of the deal; if they did it, I couldn't screen." Harry raised one eyebrow.

"Flying dangerously, aren't we?"

"Afraid so. I hope they have enough sense not to ruin the reception," Ginny said hopefully, glancing at Fred who was now whispering something to the still-flirting George. George looked up from Alice and gave Ginny a grin and a thumbs-up.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," Harry said. Someone had pulled out a radio and had turned up the volume. People had risen and were starting to dance laughingly. Harry glanced over his shoulder at the mock dance floor.

"Want to dance?" he said with a grin. Ginny glanced out to the crowd and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm really tired. I've got to meet Hermione up here early; I've got to go," she said apologetically. "But you owe me one tomorrow."

"Agreed," Harry said, standing as she got up to leave. Ginny glanced toward the door, then to Harry, and smiled.

"See you tomorrow."

Harry nodded and dropped back into his chair. She owed him _a_ dance? If he had his way, she wouldn't leave the dance floor.


	22. Get me to the church on time

Ginny woke up with the sun already bright on her face. She groaned as she rolled over, glancing at the clock. It shook its hands at her, tut-tutting.

"Just tell me the time," she grumbled. The clock obeyed haughtily and positioned its hands to the time. Ginny sat up quickly and grabbed the clock. "No!" The clock sent a triumphantly conceited smile at her and nodded. 

"Bloody worthless clock," she muttered, slamming it down. She hopped out of bed, desperately pulling on a pair of jeans over her pajamas.

"Doesn't anyone pay attention around here?" she continued to mutter as she raced down the stairs.

"Ginny, dear! We thought you'd be up by now," Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully as she placed the pot of tea on the table. Ginny pulled out a chair spitefully and sat in it.

"I was supposed to be, thank you," she said, grabbing the plate of muffins and placing two on her plate. "Didn't it occur to anyone I'm supposed to meet Hermione at the church in fifteen minutes? And it might be a little suspicious if I apparate in front of the florist?" she said angrily, looking at the faces crowded around the table. After the rehearsal dinner last night, all the Weasley members of the wedding party--and Harry--trooped back to the Burrow to spend the night. Bill and Chessie and Harry were at the end of the table near Mr. Weasley, watching Ginny's frenetic rush with amusement. Charlie was wrapping his hand in gauze, muttering to himself.

"Spend years with dragons in Romania and here I spend one day at home and burn myself making breakfast," he muttered, not looking at anyone else. 

Fred and George both had mouths full of scrambled eggs and they eyed Ginny warily. She could be dangerous when she got into a mood like this. Ron ignored his sister because he was too occupied poking anxiously at the sausages on his plate.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, I—forgot," Mrs. Weasley admitted sheepishly. Ginny sighed. Everyone else had enough to worry about without having to keep tabs on her. Ginny sighed apologetically.

"Sorry, Mum," she said, gulping down pumpkin juice.

"Don't worry, Gin, I'll get ready and we'll go together. Hermione won't be as mad if you bring along another set of hands," Chessie piped up. She lightly bounced three-year-old Zack in her lap. Ginny glanced at the boy skeptically.

"Zack can stay with Bill," she said, prying Zack's hands out of her long chestnut hair. Now it was Bill's turn to look at the child skeptically.

"We can't stay long anyway," Ginny said as she glanced at the working clock on the wall. "We have our hair and makeup in an hour and a half."

"We'll make it," Chessie said coolly. She had a half-eaten muffin on her plate and a glass only partially filled with pumpkin juice. She was in the early stages of pregnancy and, Ginny noted, thankfully hadn't gained enough to weight to adjust her bridesmaid dress. Ginny shuddered thinking of how well that talk would go with Hermione. Even if Chessie could still fit in her dress, she was now suffering the effects of morning sickness and ate very little.

"Here, take him," Chessie said, standing and handing Zack to his father. She ascended the stairs and disappeared

"Kitty!" Zack cried, reaching out to old Crookshanks who was winding his way into the kitchen. Hearing the child's cry, Crookshanks picked up his pace, eager to keep his tail out of the toddler's painful clutches. Bill kept a tight hold on his son, who had begun to struggle fiercely when he noticed Chessie disappear up the stairs.

"Where Mummy going?" he asked, a pout beginning to form.

"She's leaving you," Fred said dully.

"Fred," Mrs. Weasley said tiredly. Zack's eyes widened.

"Fo'eva?" he asked, a slight tremble to his voice.

"Forever and ever," George confirmed.

"Cut it out, guys," Bill said. "Mummy's going with Aunt Ginny to see Aunt Hermione."

"Me too!" Zack declared, wriggling away from his father. Bill set the child on the floor, and pulled the "child leash" out of his pocket and wrapped it around Zack's wrist. Fred and George watched mystified, as Zack stretched the leash to its full extent, calling up the stairs to his mother.

"That's fantastic," Fred said appreciatively.

"You got something to shut him up, too?" George asked. Bill glared at them.

"_Silencio_," he said, pointing his wand at them. Fred and George glared back at Bill, pantomiming rather obscene gestures.

Chessie returned dressed, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She tossed Ginny a fresh shirt.

"Here, throw that on; you're getting changed later today anyway. This'll do until then." She also tossed Ginny a ponytail holder, too. Ginny threw the shirt on over her camisole top, chugging the remainder of her juice.

"Tell Hermione we say hello," Charlie said, looking up as Ginny jumped up from the table, gathering her hair behind her head.

"Will do," Ginny said around the elastic band in her mouth. Fred and George were pantomiming something, too, but she wasn't sure Hermione would want to hear it. Ron didn't look up as the two women left the room, but Harry looked up and smiled good-bye.

"Calm down," Chessie said as they waited in the Stop-By. She was reading an article in _Witch's Weekly_. Ginny was bouncing her feet impatiently and continued to check her watch approximately every eight seconds. "If you don't stop, I'll leave you back at home with Bill, too."

"That's us!" Ginny said, hopping up at the announcement of the next train coming through. Chessie replaced the magazine on the table next to her and joined Ginny at the door.

"Oh, good, you're here," Hermione said, breathing a sigh of relief. The florist and Mrs. Granger turned around from their spot at the altar where they were arranging flowers. Hermione looked back up at the waiting pair. "Looks good."

"Are you sure?" the florist said with narrowed eyes.

"Yes," Mrs. Granger said firmly. "Hermione, if you spend too much time on this, you'll be late for the hair appointment." At this sound logic, Hermione conceded and they moved on to another floral arrangement.

"C'mon," Ginny said, motioning Chessie to follow her. They trooped into the reception hall and began to set up tables. The caterer and his crew were busy in the kitchen, but they managed to pause to acknowledge the women with welcoming smiles.

Ginny and Chessie had barely finished when the florist breezed into the hall, carrying two small centerpieces. Two young ladies who looked somewhat hassled followed him. Ginny immediately saw why, as their boss placed his centerpieces, stood back, and proceeded to watch the girls' every move. When they finished their task, he clapped twice and motioned for them to follow him as he stalked out of the room, only to return and start the process all over. Ginny didn't like to think of what Hermione would say about the inefficiency of this process.

But despite the time-consuming method, they quickly placed all the floral arrangements on the tables and began on the table that would hold the wedding cake. The florist even added a hint of ivy curling around the edge of the table that would hold gifts.

"Hermione didn't ask for that," Ginny whispered to Chessie as they watched the florist and his assistants finish.

"I think he admires her. They _are_ a lot alike," Chessie said, trying not to laugh. The florist snapped his fingers when he was finished with the ivy, and the two girls followed him obediently from the room. They had set up the floral arrangements of the entire reception hall without ever speaking a word.

They reentered the sanctuary to see the florist exchange a few words with the Grangers. The florist shook Mrs. Granger's hand, then turned to Hermione. He kissed her on both cheeks in a very flamboyant fashion, then snapped his fingers and stalked out of the church. The assistants hastily picked up all of their tools and extra clippings, trotting hurriedly in his wake. As the florist swept out of the doors, he nodded curtly to Ginny and Chessie, and then he was gone.

"What a character!" Chessie laughed as they approached Hermione and her mother.

"He's certainly something," Mrs. Granger breathed, still staring at the doors.

"Anything else we can do?" Ginny asked. Mrs. Granger glanced at her watch and said firmly before Hermione could answer,

"No. You get going. Your father and I can take care of anything here. We'll meet you in room 12 at two o'clock," she said, shooing the girls out the door.

Danica and Alice were waiting for the trio when they arrived at the hair salon for the 11:30 appointment. The girls all took seats down the line and chatted and laughed easily for 2 hours until their hair was complete. They were then lead to the opposite side of the salon where two makeup technicians were waiting; Danica and Alice were first, Ginny and Chessie next, and last came Hermione. The technicians had swatches of the dress material as well as samples of their floral bouquets. The girls laughed at each other when they saw the end result; from the neck up they all looked gorgeous and ready for the big day. From the shoulders down however, they looked ready to laze around the house eating junk food.

"Hey, Dad?" Ginny poked her head into the back door of the house. The girls had returned to the Burrow to pick up their dresses.

"All clear," Mr. Weasley said from his post in the kitchen. His job was to make sure everyone had cleared out of the Burrow by 2:30 and then he would Apparate over to the church inside a predetermined broom closet.

The girls trooped in and took their dresses out of the bathroom where Hermione and Ginny had hung them two days before, steaming them once each day. The result was fresh, perfectly steamed dresses. They marched back into the kitchen where several random household items were laid on the counter. The Weasleys had several Portkeys arranged for various times to accommodate younger people or, as in this case, Muggles. Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch and selected an item, handing it over to Hermione.

"Everyone?" Hermione said, holding it out. Alice glanced at the cat toy doubtfully. Hermione placed to place a quick memory charm on her once they arrived at the church, just to be safe. Mr. Weasley gave the final countdown and all the girls were tugged and swept along into Room 12 at the church. Before Alice had a chance to speak, Hermione performed a quick—and strong—memory spell. Alice shook her head a moment and then spoke while the others held their breath.

"Sorry. I always get a little dizzy after the underground," she said apologetically. "Good thing we got here so quick, huh?" she said with a grin, hanging her dress on the rack Mrs. Weasley had placed in the room. All the others laughed and breathed a sigh of relief. Their shoes were all lined up under a window at the east end of the room. Hermione had mercifully gone for comfortable shoes that resembled slippers. Their dresses were long enough that the shoes would only be visible while they were walking. Mrs. Weasley had already drawn the shades; all that remained was for the girls to get dressed.

~*~

"Two hours, fifteen minutes," Ron said flatly, glancing at a clock. All the groomsmen had lingered at the Burrow after the girls had left. They didn't have as much to prepare. Hermione made them promise to take a shower and dry their hair, but other than that, all they had to do was wait…

"Will someone please make him stop?" Charlie said tightly. Ron had kept them all abreast of the countdown for the past hour. Ron shook his head. After a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, but Percy interrupted.

"She's _not_ going to change her mind," he said sharply. He had quickly lost patience with Ron's forlorn questioning that had consistently followed the countdown announcement.

"Daddy's invested too much," Fred said, glancing up from an inventory for the shop he and George were reviewing.

"No, because she loves him," Bill said, shooting Fred a threatening glance. Zack was taking a nap upstairs, Crookshanks tucked away safely in the kitchen.

"Two hours—"

"—ten minutes," the remainder of the group finished for Ron.

"Why doesn't someone just knock him out?" Charlie asked.

"I'll do it!" George said, jumping up.

"No, you won't," Bill said tiredly. He got up and went into the kitchen. A short time later, he reemerged with a glass of purplish liquid. He handed it to Ron, who sipped it forlornly. Very quickly, Ron's eyes drooped and he slumped against the couch.

"Conserving his energy, eh?" Fred asked, staring at his parchment. He glanced up with a mischievous grin. "He'll need it tonight, I wager."

Harry preferred not to think about it, and instead helped Bill carry Ron upstairs to the first bedroom on the second floor. They left him on the bed just as he begun to snore. They closed the door in relief.

"That ought to keep him out for awhile," Bill said, dusting his hands. Harry glanced at Bill uneasily.

"He'll wake up in time for the wedding, won't he?" Harry had a vision of a very sleepy Ron being pushed down the aisle toward Hermione.

"Of course. And he'll wonder when he ever had a better nap. C'mon, I'll take you up on that offer of chess."

~*~

"Sam and John are doing great; nearly everyone is seated," Mrs. Granger said breezing into the makeshift dressing room. She stopped short when she saw all the girls and let out a breath of awe.

"You look so beautiful," she said, approaching her daughter, her arms held out. She kissed Hermione gently on the cheek.

"All of you," she said, turning to them. They giggled nervously.

"Thanks, Mrs. Granger, I was beginning to worry," Ginny said. Mrs. Granger smiled, tears running down her cheeks.

"Oh, I'm a mess," she said, grabbing her purse and fumbling through it. She had chosen a lilac dress and purse, which ended up complimenting the crème color of Mrs. Weasley's dress. Mrs. Granger pulled out a tissue and pressed it to her cheeks. A knock sounded on the door and when the girls gave the "OK," Mr. Granger opened it cautiously and entered.

"You all look lovely," he said, unable to wipe the smile off his face that had graced it all day. On seeing his daughter, though, his smile faltered somewhat. The girls all breathed in awe as he stepped towards his daughter, love and pride in his eyes.

"And you," he said, his voice breaking. Hermione embraced her father, willing herself not to cry.

"Stop it; you and Mum are making me ruin my makeup. You paid good money for it, don't forget," Hermione said, laughing as she pressed a hanky to her eyes. Her parents laughed.

"All right, I promise," her father said, kissing his daughter on the cheek. Mrs. Granger couldn't answer.

"Is everything ready?" Hermione asked, tucking the hanky back into her mother's purse.

"Just about. Waiting for the last of the stragglers to come in," Mr. Granger answered, his grin now returned. There was another knock on the door, but this patron didn't wait for a response before entering.

"Ready?" Kiki asked softly. Everyone cooed over her, making the girl blush. The Grangers looked at their daughter, who set her head determinedly and nodded. Kiki turned on her heel and skipped back to the ambulatory where the party would line up. The girls fluffed their dresses as a last prep and glanced at each other, unable to stop smiling. They lined up in the predetermined order and followed Kiki.

The groomsmen were already waiting for the girls. In the front stood Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with Ron who was desperately trying not to fidget. Ginny couldn't remember when Mrs. Weasley had looked so proud; perhaps at Bill's wedding, but even that was a stretch. Alice met Percy and took his waiting arm somewhat reluctantly. She glanced back at Danica for support, but received none as Danica graciously accepted Charlie's arm and had eyes for no one else. Bill and Chessie met up, both looking serene and content in their already-married status. Ginny felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she then joined Harry, and took his arm.

"You look fantastic," Harry said, leaning over to whisper in Ginny's ear.

"Thanks. So do you," she responded. And he really did. Ginny had no idea what a difference a tux made until she saw Harry—and all the groomsmen. The guys all seemed to stand a little taller and look a little more suave. Ginny's heart skipped a beat as she saw Ron and her parents take a step into the sanctuary. She glanced behind her to make sure that Kiki and Zack were in tow. Kiki had reluctantly taken her place beside Zack, who grinned at her brightly. She glared at him and looked away. Ginny saw her glance down at the boys again, this time a soft smile beginning to form. She then faced front as she and Harry started into the church.


	23. The Anticipated Wedding

A/N: I have no idea how this got so long, but it is now time for the fluff alert!  Hope this isn't too disappointing!

Chapter Twenty-Three

     Everyone had turned and was watching as the wedding party glided down the aisle.  Ginny tried to suppress her grin and look a little more dignified.  But it was hard, when everyone was smiling so broadly back at her.  Ginny clutched her bouquet and Harry's arm a little tighter.  She had no idea they'd invited so many people.  Everything was a blur and Ginny didn't have time to find any familiar faces.  Soon, she had reached the altar and separated from Harry, taking her spot on the bridal side.

     Everyone cooed as Kiki and Zack now made their way down the aisle.  Kiki grinned broadly and tossed flower petals lightly.  Eager to share the attention, Zack reached over, grasped a fistful and flung them high in the air.  Ginny noticed as Kiki's smile tensed, but remained.  She breathed a sigh of relief while the guests chuckled at the adorable antics.

     The guests then stood as the intro to the wedding march filtered through the organ pipes.  There was a general collective intake of breath as Hermione and her parents made their entrance.  A few murmurs ran through the crowd, all of them compliments on how beautiful Hermione looked.  And it was true.  She was beaming and looked every part the happy bride she was.  Mr. and Mrs. Granger had collective themselves, though Mrs. Granger still looked terribly close to tears.

     It was difficult for Harry to keep his eyes forward as he and Ginny had followed Bill and Chessie.  He wanted to look at her again, taking her in completely.  It didn't seem fair for her too look so beautiful on Hermione's day.  He dragged his eyes away to watch Hermione float down the center aisle.  Her eyes were locked on Ron's; Harry could see that Ron had stopped fidgeting and was now entranced by Hermione.  As happy as he was for Hermione, Harry's eyes couldn't help but wander over to where Ginny was standing a meter or so away.  She too had her eyes on Hermione, and a serene smile lit her features.  He could tell it was very difficult for her not to break out in a huge goofy grin, but she was managing well.  Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and eyes glistened slightly.

     Hermione had paused just before the altar with her parents on either side of her.  The minister began to speak, and Ginny's gaze drifted from Hermione to Ron.  She caught Harry's gaze and held it briefly before looking at Ron.  Her eyes traveled back to Hermione's and Ginny noticed that Harry was still watching her.  She tried not to think of it.

     "Who gives this girl to be wed?" the minister asked warmly.

     "Her mother and I do," said Mr. Granger, his voice breaking on the short sentence.  At this, Mrs. Granger pressed a tissue to her eyes before leaning forward to kiss her daughter.  Hermione turned to her father and he did the same.  She gave them one last look before turning to Ron.  Ron had stepped forward, his hand eagerly outstretched for Hermione.  Harry watched as Hermione took it and their hands closed tightly together.  Hermione handed her bouquet to Ginny, barely meeting her new sister's eyes.  She had eyes only for Ron now.

     The ceremony went smoothly, with everyone sighing in all the right places.  Ginny reminded herself to thank Hermione profusely for her choice of footwear.  Just standing her feet began to hurt, but she reminded herself that at least she wasn't in pumps.

      And now, the vows.  Everyone held their breath anxiously, trying to catch every word of the vows.  Hermione and Ron had both written something very short.

     "I think we've known each other long enough to know our faults," Hermione had said, willing her voice to remain steady.  "And that's why I am so thankful that you picked me.  You know me inside and out; you see the bits of me I'm ashamed of, but you love me anyway.  You're a best friend and you're everything I could ask for in a husband.  I love you in the most simple and complex forms of that phrase and I don't know how to say it any differently.  I love you, Ron."  Hermione looked up at Ron from the tiny slip of paper that she had written her vow on.  Tears glistened in her eyes.

     "I don't know why you had to go first," Ron said, when it was his turn.  He wiped away anxiously at the tears forming in his own eyes and the guests chuckled lightly.  He cleared his throat and glanced at the slip of paper he had stuffed into his cuff.

     "I am the luckiest man on earth," he said firmly.  "You are the most brilliant, amazing, adjective-laden woman I know.  And the fact that you would accept me is beyond my understanding." 

     When Ron had run his vows by some of the men, Fred had snorted at this point and said, "You're not the only one."  But now he was mercifully silent, Harry noted thankfully.

     "You make me a better person when I'm around you.  You make me want to _be_ a better person."  Ron paused, clearing his throat.  "I want to marry you because I couldn't imagine a life without you.  No matter what is in store for us, I want to every day be deserving of you, or at least try," Ron said with a slight smile.  He sobered and looked up from his paper.  "I love you."

     By the time the vows were done, there were very few dry eyes.  Harry could hear quite a few tell-tale sniffles out in the audience.  Hermione and Ron stared at each other, tears in their eyes as well.  The vows were lovely, Ginny agreed.  But she was almost embarrassed by the honest emotion from Ron.  She wondered for a mutinous moment if he had any help in writing it.  But by glancing at his face, Ginny could tell very well that the words were all his own.

     But in no time at all, the ceremony had flown by and the infamous words were now being spoken.

     "You may now kiss the bride."  Ron and Hermione smiled, and did as told.  The kiss was sweet and innocent, and met with approval.  As people "oohed," "awwwed," and clapped appreciatively, Harry's glance was drawn to a brisk movement in the back.  Someone bulky and dark along the back wall was making an exit.  Harry strained to see who the figure was without attracting too much attention.  He needn't have worried; the figure paused a moment in the doorway, glancing back at this picture-perfect moment of the newlyweds.  Krum.  Harry felt something like pity for the expression on Viktor's face.  Clearly he had snuck in quietly to see if the deed would indeed be done; and now that it had, he was making a quiet exit.  Harry respected him for this decision and decided to say nothing to Hermione or Ron.  He let the figure slip away silently.

     Ron and Hermione now turned to their guests, grinning and clutching one another's hand.  They waved to people as they returned down the aisle, new rings glittering in the light.

     The exit was somewhat unscripted and, frankly, somewhat messy.  Harry stepped down from his place and offered his hand to Ginny.  To his surprise she took it, and they exited as quietly and orderly as they had come in.

     Harry enjoyed having her hand in his again, and he was surprised at her lack of objection.

     "We have to go to the reception line," Ginny said, pointing to the social hall.  Many of the guests who weren't remaining in the sanctuary were heading in the direction she was pointing.

     "Oh yeah," Harry said.  He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm.  She smiled down.

     "Sir, I believe you misremembered to ask my father if you might have the honor of courting me," she said haughtily.

     "Misremembered?" Harry asked bemusedly.  Ginny laughed.

     "Sounded better than forget."  Even if she was teasing, Harry noticed that she didn't pull away.  Seeing the build-up of people, they turned and took the door leading to the choir practice room.  From there they traveled through the halls, and found a side door for the reception hall.  They snuck in the side, then came around to the front doors where Bill and Chessie looked at them with surprise.  Charlie, Danica, Percy, Alice, and the Weasleys were line along one side; Bill, Chessie, and the Grangers were opposite them.  Ginny and Harry took their places beside Chessie and Bill.

     "You're late," Charlie remarked with a grin.  Harry smiled.

     "Took a detour," he said confidently.  Charlie noticed Ginny trying to fight off the blush rising in her cheeks.  He smiled at Harry again.

     "They never seem to be shortcuts," he said knowingly, taking Danica's hand.  The two winked at each other, giving Harry and Ginny sly looks.  Both lines cringed though as they heard the noise of the approaching guests.  Harry leaned forward to look past Bill and the Grangers.

     "And now, the deluge," he said grimly.


	24. The Reception Line

Chapter Twenty-Four

     Harry hadn't expected such a row for the reception. He and the rest of the party stood at the door, greeting people as they came. This caused something of a traffic jam as people stopped to exchange more than a few compliments or pleasant hellos. The Creevy brothers had to nearly be pried from Harry, done thankfully by Bill and Charlie who saw the disgruntled faces in the gathering crowd. Seeing the mass of faces, Harry felt a touch of envy for Ron and Hermione who got to make a grand—and unimpaired—entrance later.

"Did you know him?" Harry mumbled to Ginny out of the corner of his mouth after he had shaken hands cordially with a young man who seemed familiar with the pair.

"Angus Moran," Ginny whispered back. "Works in Ron's department. Had him over to the house a few times."

Harry was glad to see a familiar face come through the crowd next.

"Good to see you, Madame Pomfrey," he said, offering his hand. She touched a hanky to her eye and instead embraced Harry, doing likewise to Ginny.

"So lovely to see you all so healthy," she said, dabbing at her eyes again.  "I was surprised to be invited but then, I did see an awful lot of you three over the years, didn't I?" she said to Harry with a smile. Harry grinned.

"You did at that." Madame Pomfrey nodded, agreeing with her own statement.  She glanced over her shoulder.

"I'd better get on before they light the torches," she said, entering the reception hall after giving Harry and Ginny a wink.

As the line moved along, Harry exchanged pleasantries with many former classmates. He was pleased to see that Ron had invited the whole of the old Quiddich team, from their earliest years at Hogwarts. Oliver stood in line with Harry for some time, speaking to him briefly in between other patrons. He was eager to catch Harry up on the past several years; Harry ended up having to promise Wood a lunch sometime in the next week before his former captain would depart. Alicia Spinnet arrived hand-in-hand with a young man she introduced as Ernest Weber. The poor fellow looked lost and a bit bored, as he knew no one there. But a ring glittered on Alicia's hand, and Harry realized Ernest had joined those of the hopelessly devoted fiancés. Angelina Johnson came next after Alicia, but she exchanged just a few words with Harry before asking very pointedly where the twins were. Harry grinned and gestured inside. She nodded brusquely and swept away. Katie Bell was somewhere further down the line and she looked--gorgeous was the word for it. How that had ever escaped his notice, Harry was unsure.  Somehow she had come unattached, but by the way heads kept swiveling toward her, Harry doubted if she'd leave the same.

The whole of the Order had come, as well. Kingsley and Tonks had come through the line together, the latter causing quite a stir as she elbowed people accidentally numerous times. As Harry shook Kingsley's hand, he leaned forward.

"Don't let her near the cake," Harry whispered. Kingsley smiled and winked to let him know he understood.

"That really was lovely, Harry," Tonks said, giving him a squeeze.

"Thanks, but tell Hermione and Ron that. I just stood there," Harry said modestly.

"But you did it so well!" Tonks said, and Harry realized that were she to do the same, it would indeed be quite a feat. Ginny grinned at Tonks, thinking the same thing.

Moody came through shortly behind them, his wooden leg clunking loudly against the floor. He had a large safari hat pulled low over his magical eye, which Harry noticed was swiveling crazily.

"Can't stay long, Harry, Ginny," Moody growled, nodding to each of them as his eye surveying the crowd pressing around him. "Don't want to attract attention, you know." Harry nodded and Ginny suppressed a giggle. Despite his attempt, Moody seemed to be doing just the opposite, as people glanced warily at his wooden leg and tended to stare at his choice of headwear. Hestia Jones, the cheerful witch who had come pick up Harry his fifth year, was close on Moody's heels, obviously keeping an eye on him. She hugged Ginny and Harry hurriedly, then rolled her eyes and chased after Moody.

Lavender Brown looked pleased to see Harry, even if he couldn't say the same for her. She was hand in hand with Ernie Macmillan, an act Ernie seemed to find somewhat embarrassing.

"Imagine, Hermione and Ron!" Lavender giggled. "I suppose it happens to all of us though, doesn't it?" she said, glancing suggestively at Ernie. He blushed and stammered out a few incoherent "ers" before she dragged him along into the hall.

Dean Thomas, Neville, and Seamus all came through the line together, obviously having met up after the ceremony. Ginny greeted them all warmly, which Harry thought that was rather big of her, seeing as how she had managed to date all three of them at least once during their stay at Hogwarts. Neville had graciously arrived without a date, but Harry overheard him telling Seamus that he couldn't stay long because he had to meet Natalina for drinks before he had dinner with Janet. Dean, too, had seemed eager to catch up with Harry, and he stood next to Harry trying to carry on a conversation in between greetings. Although, Harry did notice Dean eyeing Ginny as he waited for Harry to catch a free moment. Harry agreed to meet Dean for drinks, which pleased his fellow classmate who sauntered into the hall, eager to seek out Seamus and Neville once more.

"You seem to be in high demand," Ginny said, as they waved to Perkins, Mr. Weasley's coworker.

"If only I had that effect on women," Harry said out of the corner of his mouth, nodding to a passing guest.

Dumbledore and McGonagall came through then, both of their eyes alight.

"Wonderful to see you!" Ginny breathed, hugging both Professors. Professor McGonagall returned the girl's embrace and shocked Harry by pulling him into one as well.

"How was your trip?" Ginny asked Dumbledore, her eyes laughing.

"Lovely. I just barely made it back in time for the wedding," he said, chuckling. Harry wasn't quite sure what it was about, but Ginny and Dumbledore seemed to enjoy their private joke.

"I look forward to the coming year, Potter," McGonagall said, turning to Harry with an irrepressible smile. "I expect you have much to bring to Hogwarts."

"Now, Minerva, we don't want to pressure the boy," Dumbledore said good-naturedly, his eyes twinkling as he clearly thought the very same as his colleague.

"I make no promises," Harry said, taking a deep breath.

"Then you're a smart man," McGonagall said approvingly. Harry's response pleased the duo and they continued on into the hall. Close behind was a very surprising figure.

"Professor Snape!" Ginny said with unguarded surprise. He looked at her appraisingly. Shaking off her shock, Ginny offered him a warm smile and handshake. Harry followed suit.

"To be honest, Professor, we didn't expect to see you," Harry said. He immediately regretted the words. Snape, however, didn't seem to mind, and he even managed to subdue his natural sneer.

"To be honest, Potter, neither did I," he said, mimicking Harry's phrase. As much as the trio always enjoyed a good round of Snape-bashing, they had all come to admit he had gained their respect. He had proven himself quite valuable in the second war against Voldemort, proving Dumbledore's trust again and again. He didn't seem to treat his former students—now colleagues—any differently than in the past, but they all noticed a warmer tone to his voice now.

"But, apparently, anyone who is anyone is at this wedding, at least regarding Hogwarts," Snape said dully.

"And since when did you care what people thought?" Harry asked with a grin. Snape looked at Harry, and Harry thought he saw a smile flicker briefly in Snape's eyes.

"Never, Potter; but apparently if I wanted to talk to my headmaster, this was the place to come." And with that Snape swept away, leaving Harry and Ginny shaking their heads in disbelief.

And still there were guests. Harry continued shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with people unknown. He was surprised to find himself grateful when Luna came through.

"What did you think, Luna?" Ginny asked, embracing her friend.

"I suppose it went very well. Could have used less light, though," she said distantly.

"How are you, Luna?" Harry asked, unsure to hug or shake her hand. Luna turned to him, but made no motion to do either.

"Fine, Harry. How are you? Ginny says you've returned to Hogwarts."

"To teach," Harry said quickly. A small smile formed on Luna's lips.

"Of course. Defense Against the Dark Arts. I knew you would, ever since my fourth year, with the D.A. You were always very good, Harry," Luna said encouragingly.

"Thanks, Luna," Harry said, surprised at the compliment.

"You're welcome. But don't get too big-headed," she said lightly as she walked into the hall. Ginny laughed and Harry rolled his eyes, constantly astounded by Luna. The next woman to come through the line seemed to know Ginny, but only smiled at Harry. She then did a double take, and presented her hand coyly which made her shoulder-length hair swing attractively.

"Sylvia Lockhart, no relation," she said sweetly. Harry laughed, as he was sure she got that question quite frequently from other wizards.

"Harry Potter, pleased to meet you," he said.

"You have no idea," she purred, her eyes flicking up and down Harry and holding his hand a little too long. Ginny watched with raised eyebrows. Sylvia gave Harry another flirtatious look before ambling into the hall.

"Do you know her?" he asked, slightly stunned at the girl's overtures. He watched as she made her way into the hall, the asymmetrical cut of her wispy pastel green sundress brushing across her knees and calves pleasantly.

"Met her at Hermione's bridal shower. She's one of Hermione's co-workers," Ginny said carelessly, having no clear intention of furthering their introduction.

"Friendly girl," Harry said, continuing to observe her exit. Ginny snorted.

Moody wasn't the only one who drew attention. Hagrid cause quite a stir as he moved through the line; people eyed him conspicuously.

"Hey there, Ginny, Harry," he said, embracing them. Harry noticed Hagrid's voice shook a little.

"Hi, Hagrid. How's Gaffer?" Ginny asked, looking up at their former professor.

"He's right as rain, thank yeh. Wanted to come along, doesn't like being left alone, that one."

"He's still at the hut, isn't he?" Harry asked hesitantly. Hagrid nodded.

"I don't think Hermione would forgive me if I brought him. Might have cause a bit of a stir," Hagrid said quietly. Harry tried not to laugh, as Hagrid clearly hadn't noticed "the stir" he was making by himself.

"Good idea," Ginny said confidently as she nudged Harry.

"Yeah, great to see you, Hagrid," Harry said, a few chuckles escaping. Hagrid beamed.

"Won't be too long before school starts, Harry," he said.

"Yeah, everyone feels obligated to point that out," said Harry. Hagrid winked.

"Jus' glad yer back," he said, patting Harry on the shoulder. Harry tried not to flinch at Hagrid's underestimation of his own strength. "See yeh around." Hagrid waved as he departed.

"Well, look who we found!" came a cheerful voice. Lee Jordan was standing before Harry and Ginny, arm in arm with Parvati Patil. Parvati looked a bit uncomfortable, and judging by her reactions to Lee, Harry could guess they were NOT a couple.

"Look who I found, wandering around by herself, Harry. Poor Parvati looked simply lost," Lee said confidently and confirmed Harry's suspicions.

If Parvati had looked lost before, now she looked merely frightened. Luckily, her uncomfortable position didn't last long.

"Is that Wood?" Lee said, releasing Parvati's arm. "Sorry, Patil, gotta see what old Oliver's up to." Lee nodded to Harry and strode into the hall, calling out to Wood. Parvati looked relieved.

"Frightened me half to death," she said to Ginny. "Came out of nowhere and attached himself. Didn't even bother to say hello, just started talking like a conversation had been interrupted."

"Fortunately, Lee's attentions are usually short-lived," Harry said with a smile. Parvati rolled her eyes.

"Where's your sister?" Ginny asked, glancing into the crowd.

"She had a conference at work. Her boss is a bit high-strung and doesn't like it when someone's missing. But she sent this," Parvati said, holding out box wrapped in white paper with an attractive bow on top. Ginny pointed to a table inside the door that was filled with presents.

"Thanks. See you two," Parvati said, with a parting smile.

A few more strangers filtered through the line, Ginny whispering names and quick facts to Harry.

"Marcus and Anita Devlin, old friends of Mum's and Dad's. Nice couple, no children."

"Mr. Vincent, Hermione's boss. Amiable fellow, but smells a bit odd."

"The Lylers," Ginny whispered as an older woman and man walked away, clutching the hand of a young boy. "Little one, Archie, is the only child. Came a bit late."

"Joshua MacDougall, Granger acquaintance. Showed up at the bridal shower briefly. Bit of a flirt," Ginny said, her fake smile still plastered on her face. The line had dwindled down to less people now, and most of them didn't seem interested in conversation. Harry and Ginny were just about to join everyone inside when Remus Lupin came running, his robes flying behind him.

"Is anyone else here?" Lupin asked. Harry found this a rather stupid question, as Remus could clearly see the hall was already filled with people. But Harry smiled and gestured over to the table where most of the members of the Order had taken a spot.

"Over there," Harry said. Lupin smiled in gratitude and started forward. Ginny cleared her throat, and put a hand on Lupin's arm. He glanced down and she motioned to his robe.

"Oh, right," he said with a smile, and shrugged out of it. Ginny folded it over her arm, promising to put it in the cloakroom for him. Lupin then made his way over to the table, where Harry watched as Remus took the seat beside Tonks and feigned innocence when Snape returned for "his" seat. Lupin quickly made apologetic motions to which Snape rolled his eyes but took the next seat over.

     "Well, let's join the party," Ginny said, pulling Harry's sleeve.  He obliged and let her lead him to the main table where the wedding party sat.  He noticed unfortunately that they had been seated similar to how they stood during the ceremony.  Harry could look across the table to see Ginny now, but as soon as Ron and Hermione came in she would be blocked from view.  Harry sat back with a sigh.  He couldn't wait for the dancing begin, he thought, eyeing the currently-empty dance floor.  He had the promise of a dance he intended to collect.

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Thanks for all the great and encouraging reviews, everyone!  There IS more to come! :)


	25. The awaited elixir

Author's warning: "Like things light and fluffy?"

  
Chapter Twenty-Five

     Hermione and Ron had already taken their turn around the dance floor, as well as Hermione's dance with her father.  The cake had been cut, and Ginny sensed that the atmosphere of anticipation had died slightly.  This was the perfect time…Ginny leaned across the table, trying to get Fred or George's attention.  They were sitting at the opposite end of the table, chatting to Percy and Charlie.  George caught Ginny's motion and grinned.  He nudged Fred and they whispered together conspiratorally.  Ginny saw them make a motion to Kiki, who had previously been eyeing the table of presents.  She dashed away into the kitchen to retrieve the cup from where Ginny had carefully stowed it.

     "And now!" Fred and George stood from their place at the table of honor.  They both walked around the side of the table, attracting the attention of the room.

     "If you will all direct your attention to the center ring, my esteemed colleague and myself have a presentation!" Fred said loudly.  A round of hesitant applause broke out among the wedding guests.  Most of the Muggles were glancing at each other apprehensively, not familiar with Fred and George's antics.  The wizards and witches however, were already grinning with anticipation.  George held up his hands to stem the applause.

     He held up both his palms to the "audience" flipping them back and forth.  He rolled up his sleeves, pointing to each arm as he did so.  With another flick of his hand, George had produced a bouquet of rather ostentatious and ridiculously fake flowers.  The Muggles all gave an "aw" of appreciation and laughed as George presented them to Hermione.

     "A real wizard isn't he?" Fred said loudly, winking at the spectators.  Their magical acquaintances gave a laugh at the inside joke.

     "And now for something very near--" George said, turning round from giving Hermione her bouquet.

     "--and dear--"

     "--to the Weasley family.  The elixir--"

     "of LIFE!" Fred said dramatically.  He wished he could have added an effect of thunder and lightning, but Mum had nixed it.

     "Kiki, the cup please!" George said boldly, motioning to the back of the hall.  At this, Hermione's young cousin came marching forward, a resolute expression on her face.  She handed the cup to Fred and then bowed low.  This raised such an approval from the guests that she exited by walking backwards, bowing as she went.

     "Trying to steal our thunder, the little imp," Fred said to George loud enough for the guests to hear.

     "We've come to a sad state-of-affairs, Fred, if we're competing against six year olds and losing," George said gravely.

     "Three year olds present much harder competition," Fred agreed, thinking of Zack.  He shook off the depressing revelation and cleared his throat to continue.

     "As man and wife, Ron and Hermione will begin their life by sharing this cup--"

     "--among other things." George said with a grin.  Ron blushed, and Hermione had pasted a nervous smile on her face.

     "This elixir contains elements essential to the establishment of a good marriage.  Naturally, then, the first ingredient is mink's blood," Fred said brightly.  A slight murmur of discussion rippled through the crowd.  Harry suspected it was mostly disgust.

     "Maybe we should explain it comes from the crest of the Weasley family name which bears a weasel.  But minks are much easier to catch," George explained.  Harry could see by the reactions of the guests that this was not going well at all.  He and Ginny had stood with George and Fred, but they had remained behind the table.  Harry clutched his glass of champagne tightly in nervous anticipation.

     "And put up less of a fight," Fred said cheerfully.  Harry sensed that the animal-rights crowd of Muggles was itching to be on their feet.  Fred and George seemed to be ignoring the tense murmuring and were continuing on brightly.

     "Next then, is added the classic crushed dragon's scales," George said.  This, obviously had an effect on their previous statements, and the crowd began to chuckle.  The addition of dragon hide was enough to convince them that it was all just a joke.

     "Meant to strengthen their marriage.  After all, nothing keeps me going like a good pinch of dragon's scales!" Fred said, sounding very much like an advertisement.

     "Fred has a cocaine addiction.  I'm afraid he tends to sniff anything smaller than a raisin," George said, patting his brother's shoulder.

     "Got some nasty things stuck up there," Fred said pensively.

     "Not unlike your head, eh?" George said, tapping his temple.  He took the cup from Fred and held it.

     "Next, is added the tongue and ear of a rabbit," he said, lifting the cup to eye level.

     "For communication, we're told.  But I think we all know what rabbits are known for," Fred said with a wink.

     "If he's got Weasley blood in him, he won't need help with that!" cried Lee from his safe place at a table.  The crowd erupted in laughter.

     "Too right, Lee.  Say, could I beat--er, talk to you later?" George asked brightly.

     "Sorry, I've got a date."

     "Lee, your Mum can wait," Fred responded dryly.  This repartee entertained the crowd who by now was quite warmed up to Fred and George.

     "Then, 3 hairs of a unicorn for mysticism and romance," George said, continuing.

     "We dunno why only three.  So we came up with something." Fred cleared his throat.

     "Yes.  First, we thought it had something to do with them.  But that's clearly incorrect."  George said.

     "So we discovered that by adding the ages of myself and George you came up with the neat sum of 46.  This is clearly significant as it is a mere THREE years difference from the age that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, beloved author and countryman, was knighted.  Coincidence?  I think not," Fred said, crossing his arms.

     "Brilliant!" George cried, obviously very pleased with their discovery.   He and Fred shook hands, each congratulating the other for his "brilliance," "splendid good looks," and "wickedly clever jokes."  Lee finally broke up the mutual admiration society with a shout ("Oi!").  Disgruntled at Lee's rude interruption, Fred stuffed his hands into his pocket and spoke again.

     "I suppose we'd best mention that the family ruby is resting in the bottom," Fred said dully.

     "Don't drink it, Ron," George warned, turning to look at his brother.  Ron was watching the presentation with a smirk on his face.

     "Thanks," Ron responded sarcastically.

     "A ruby?  D'you think I could fit it in my nose?" Fred asked eagerly, clutching the cup in George's hand and peering down into the liquid.

     "Better not," George answered, pulling the cup away.

     "Then just say the next ingredient." Fred said with a sigh.

     "Crushed lily to maintain the purity and innocence of their love," George said dreamily.  He and Fred sighed in unison.  They paused a moment, staring at the ceiling in dreamy contemplation.

     "I love Love," Fred cooed, clasping his hands to his chest.  George nodded and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

     "Nearly as much as we love Percy," George said, waving sweetly to their elder brother, who had assumed a poisonous look at the mention of his name.

     "Shut it," he grumbled, as the crowd chuckled.  Mrs. Weasley looked across the table at him, murder in her eyes.  Percy glanced at his mother and quickly shrank into submission.

     "Listen to Mummy, Percy," George said in a sugary tone.

     "Right then.  Last but certainly not least is chocolate syrup," Fred said, shaking himself out of the momentary reverie.

     "For taste," George added.  "Not much to say there, I'm afraid."

     "And now we present the cup to Ginny Weasley, maid-of-honor, and Harry Potter, semi-good man, to add the final ingredients into the content of the cup." The twins turned on their heels and handed the cup to Ginny and Harry.  The two bowed low and exited just as Kiki had, muttering flattering comments all the way back to their seats. 

     Ginny and Harry had come to stand in front of the table during the last ingredient.  They stood just outside of the couple so as to not block the view of the newlyweds.  Ginny stood on Ron's side, Harry on Hermione's.  They took the cup from the twins, and Harry handed it to Ginny, trying to still his nervous hands.

     "Ron and Hermione.  What can I say?" Ginny smiled, holding the cup steadily in her hands.  "I've never had a sister, and I'm so glad that, of all the people, Hermione is the girl who finally joins me—and Chessie—in the chaos that is the Weasley family.  So, I add--pineapple!" Ginny said brightly, pulling out a concealed baggie of small chunks of pineapple.  She opened the bag and placed a few in the cup.  They gave a hearty plop and sunk to the bottom.  "The pineapple is often a symbol of welcome.  So I welcome Hermione into our family, and know that they welcome their life together."

     This struck a sentimental chord with the guests, and they let out a round of appreciative applause.  Harry noticed a few ladies dabbing their eyes.  He wondered how it was going to compete with Ginny's "splendid display" as he overheard someone whisper.  Ginny handed Harry the cup.  He met her eyes, and held his breath.  Those eyes shined and danced gaily at him; he wondered if he had ever seen her so beautiful and full of joy as she was at that moment. 

     _Better focus, old boy, or you'll be a bumbling fool,_ Harry thought.  He cleared his throat and began to speak.

     "Well, if they say that you only fight with the ones you love, then Ron and Hermione must REALLY love each other!" Harry said with a wink.  The crowd laughed a little.  "You guys have had your rows, it's true.  But you've always recovered; a feat I think you enjoy more now than ever."

      It was Hermione's turn to blush.  Ron watched Harry with curiosity.  Harry grinned at the both of them, then turned to the guests and continued.

     "But we've been friends since our first year at school together," Harry said.  "And I've been fortunate enough to watch as their friendship blossomed.  So when I had to do this, I knew I wanted something to preserve the thing that brought them first together: their friendship.

     "I was doing some research--aren't you proud of me, Hermione?--and discovered that a common Victorian symbol for friendship is a depiction of clasped hands."  Harry pulled out a small Swiss army knife.  "So if you two will just hold out your wrists, I can finish my presentation."  

     Harry grinned and switched the blade closed before he continued.

     "I then also discovered that another symbol for friendship is rosemary.  And I decided, that's a little more prudent."  As Harry said this, he produced a sprig of rosemary from his inside jacket pocket.  He crushed the leaves briefly over the cup, and then handed it to Ron.

     "To the newlyweds!" Harry said loudly, clapping.  The guests took their cue, and clapped in turn.  Ron didn't glance at the cup, but instead took a sip and handed it to Hermione.  She glanced at the contents apprehensively, but took a sip anyway.  The guests erupted in more applause, with a few obscene shouts muffled by the overall noise.  

     Ginny and Harry grinned at the couple, who were now sharing a kiss.  Hermione pulled away flushed, and leaned across the table to embrace Harry, tears in her eyes.  Opposite her, Ron did the same, reaching for Ginny.

     "I love you," Hermione said to Harry, her voice wavering.  "You really ARE the best man."  Harry grinned and gave her a peck on the cheek.

     "Don't let Ron hear, he might get jealous," he answered with a laugh.  He then kissed her cheek and answered, "but I love you, too."

     Ginny leaned across the table to give her brother a warm hug.  "Good luck," she said, emotion spilling out of her.

     "I've gotten this far on it," Ron said, pulling away with a grin and looking at Hermione with admiration.

     Ginny and Harry switched sides each to give regards to the other newlywed.  Ron and Harry shook hands warmly, leaning forward for a "manly" hug.

     "You'll be next, mate," Ron said with a grin, as he glanced at Ginny who was currently hugging Hermione.  "When do I get to make your elixir?"

     "Not soon enough," Harry thought aloud, unsure if Ron heard it or not above all the bustle.  "We'll see.  I can't show you up too soon by having a better wedding, you know."

     Ginny and Hermione embraced, both fighting off tears of happiness.

     "Hermione, you're making me all weepy!" Ginny said, trying to laugh with a wavering voice.

     "Ginny--" Hermione pulled away dabbing carefully at her eyes.  "I can't tell you how happy I am.  You know--" Hermione said, her voice still faltering.  "I bet happiness isn't too far for you, either."  She glanced at Harry, who had his hands in his pockets and was joking with Ron.  Ginny blushed as she followed Hermione's gaze.

     "This is your day," Ginny said with a smile.  "You worry about me later."  They smiled and swapped emotional statements until Ron came over and touched Hermione's hand.  She looked up at him, and whispered "talk to you later," to Ginny.  The happy couple glided onto the dance floor, looking rapturous in the other's presence.  Harry stood beside Ginny, watching Ron and Hermione on the dance floor.  Other couples were starting to join them now, but the newlyweds seemed to create an atmosphere all their own.

     "Happy, aren't they?" Harry asked softly.  Ginny nodded mutely and held back a sigh that threatened to escape.

     Fred waltzed by, holding a very tall woman in his arms. He barely reached her shoulders but didn't seem to mind it.

     "Hey, Harry, what are you doing standing there?" he asked with a grin.  "Look at Ginny, the poor little wallflower can't stand it," he teased as he and his partner moved past.

     "Bugger off, Fred," Ginny said sharply, not letting her voice rise.  Fred gave a mischievous grin over his shoulder as he was swallowed by the growing crowd.

     "No, he's right.  I'm sorry.  Would you like to dance, Ginny?" Harry asked softly.  She glanced down at the hand he offered, and took it tentatively.  Harry led her to the floor and placed his hand on her waist.  Something about they way he held her told her he wasn't doing this out of obligation…..

     "You owe me a dance, anyway," Harry said, leaning back slightly to look at her.  Ginny's eyes were still shining, but they were more subdued now: drugged and glossy, as though the very dance were intoxicating.

     "I guess you're right," she said.  She paused a moment, then rested her head on his shoulder and let the music wash over her.

     _Right? _Harry thought.  He smiled slightly as he leaned his cheek against her gleaming red hair.  Oh, it was very right.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEWS!

You guys always make me smile, thanks so much! :)  I know that a few of you were looking forward to Fred/George and I hope that wasn't too disappointing; I'm afraid I'm just not JKRowling….sad revelation, isn't it?

  
Thanks to those who corrected me about the dates (Abaddon/BlackMage).  Truthfully, I am too lazy at the moment to go back and correct them, (as you can see, I was too lazy to go back and do the book math!) But I am a perfectionist at heart, so I will probably go in and fiddle with the dates a bit in the near future! :)

Thanks again to EVERYONE who has reviewed!

FallenAngel664--truth be told, I had some of these chapters written already, so it will be slow going again for awhile!


	26. What's next?

Author's Note: I've bumped up the rating to PG-13, cuz quite frankly I am not on the MPAA board so I have no idea what my fic would rate.  And, as most authors in this forum tend to agree, better safe than sorry.  In any case, my apologies for anyone who choked on previous fluff…unfortunately it's unavoidable at weddings….Anyway, so now it might get a little more interesting.  Carry on, then! :)

Chapter Twenty-Six

     Ron and Hermione departed the reception around seven to catch their flight to Switzerland.  Ron was excited, having never flown in an "iron bird" as Mr. Weasley insisted on calling it; Harry suspected Mr. Weasley had gotten his hands on a very outdated Muggle book.  The party continued on, people dancing and chatting until 9:30.  The room began to clear, with a few stragglers remaining until about ten.  The wedding party agreed to help the caterer and others help clear the room, which left them at the hall for another half-hour.

     The Weasleys had dug into their safe at Gringott's and reserved rooms for all the "kids" at a nice hotel nearby.  Wearily, all members of the wedding party trudged down the street—receiving a few curious glances—to check in to their rooms.  Alice had thankfully declined and returned home early with her mother and sister.  As the party checked in, everyone had been paired for a room, except that Ginny was now roommate-less.  By some stroke of luck, Harry had been paired with Percy.  Not eager to be in a room with Percy any longer than necessary, Harry offered to escort Ginny back to her room under the pretense of carrying her overnight bag.  He caught a glance pass between the twins but decided not to say anything.

     "Thanks for carrying my bag," Ginny said as she unlocked her door.

     "What did you bring in here?" Harry asked with slight disbelief.  For staying only a night it seemed strangely heavy.

     "Only the bare minimum," Ginny said innocently, swinging the door open.  At Harry's look of skepticism she laughed.

     "OK, maybe not.  Come on in."  Ginny entered the room, flipping light switches expertly.  With all her familiarity with electricity, Harry wondered if she had had a few Muggle boyfriends.

     The room was nice; it consisted of 3 small rooms.  The first being a bathroom on the immediate left when entering.  Venturing further, they saw that the bedroom was located off of a main room.  The main room was simply consisting mainly of a couch and television set.

     "Where do you want this?" Harry asked, eager to unload the baggage.  Ginny pointed to the bedroom to their left. She flopped onto the couch of the main room, kicking off her pumps with a sigh.  She laid one foot across her knee and began massaging it with both hands.

     "That was lovely," Ginny sighed.  Harry came out of the bedroom and smiled at her exhaustion.  He followed her lead of getting comfortable and pulled at his tie.  He dragged it off his neck and stuffed it inside his jacket pocket.

     "You're a hopeless romantic, admit it," Harry said, half-admonishing her.  He stood before her, amused at the sight of her elegant dress haphazardly arrayed around her knees as she rubbed her soles.  Harry tossed his tux jacket over the arm of the sofa and sat on the opposite end of the couch, pulling off his own shoes slowly and deliberately.

     "There's nothing wrong with that," said Ginny in defense.

     "Didn't say there was," Harry said with a smile.  Ginny switched feet, rubbing furiously but appeared to only be in more pain.

     "I'm glad Hermione chose slippers instead of pumps, but either way there is little arch support.  I think I've been on my feet all day," Ginny groaned as she rubbed the soles of her feet.  Harry sighed as though it were a great inconvenience, and waved towards himself.  Ginny grinned and placed her feet in his lap.  He willingly began to massage them, watching her as she finally began to relax.

     "Oh, that feels so good," Ginny groaned, shifting down on the couch until her head rested on the decorative pillow.

     "You've acted completely uneasy at Hermione and Ron's entire relationship.  But you're just jealous," Harry said, returning to the topic with and accusing smile.

     "Hmmph?  Jealous?  Ridiculous," Ginny mumbled.  She had flung one arm over her face tiredly, and mumbled her responses from underneath it.

     "Fine.  Have it your way."

     "But it was nice, wasn't it?" Ginny asked again with a sigh, remembering the wedding.  Harry had to agree, it was nice; and thankfully everything had gone smoothly.

     "Yeah," he agreed, still rubbing Ginny's feet.

     "Hermione looked really happy.  Really happy," Ginny said somewhat dreamily.  "Well, so did Ron, but he looked more ill than happy, at least until Hermoine walked in."  Harry laughed aloud at this observation.

     "I have never seen him more nervous!  He kept asking us if Hermione was doing the right thing.  He thought I ought to talk to her and see if she's of sound mind."

     "That's so sweet," Ginny said genuinely.

      "It was annoying as hell," Harry corrected her.

     "He didn't think he was doing the wrong thing; he thought she was doing the wrong thing.  He thought didn't deserve Hermione," Ginny said.  They were quiet a few moments longer, Harry listening to the cars passing outside as he continued to massage Ginny's sore feet.

     "My turn," he said, finishing and giving her feet a slight shove.  Ginny groaned and didn't move them.

     "Let's just say I owe you one," she complained lifting her arm to look at him.

     "Again?" Harry teased.  "You ought to careful, remember, I cash in my rainchecks."

     Ginny smiled and returned to her comfortable position. Harry yawned.  She kept her feet in his lap and he didn't object.  Harry grabbed the remote from the table next to him and switched on the telly.  He didn't even bother to channel surf before letting his eyelids droop.

~*~

     Harry awoke with a start.  He glanced around the room in confusion.  This was not his room—-was it?  He decided it definitely was NOT when Ginny came out of the bedroom in her pajamas, pulling at unseen bobby pins in her hair.  He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. When he yawned again he glanced at the TV, which was still on the TV Guide channel.

     "How long have I been asleep?" he asked, glancing at his watch.

     "Only about fifteen minutes.  Maybe twenty," Ginny said around a mouthful of bobby pins.  Most of her hair was still up in curls, but she had managed to free a back layer that just brushed the nape of her neck.  She joined Harry on the couch, still pulling at the bobby pins.  With a sigh, she gave up, content to wait until tomorrow to finish the task.

     "Gimme that," she said, standing up and reaching across Harry to grab the remote.  "Let's at least watch SOMETHING."  Harry held his breath as she brushed past him in her effort to retrieve the device.  It seemed completely unfair for her to wear that spaghetti-strap top…..

     Harry was suddenly very aware of the low lighting and quiet solitude of the room.  Ginny's presence was practically suffocating him, and he resisted the urge to jump away as she leaned against his arm.  She stretched out the length of the couch, her back and head leaning against Harry's left side.

     "Now, this guy just bothers me.  Who can get that worked up over a laundry detergent?"  Ginny asked, pointing at the screen with the remote.  She turned her face upward toward Harry's, a smile teasing her lips.  She held his gaze too long, Harry decided later, and gave him no choice….

     Harry leaned down awkwardly, turning slightly to meet Ginny's lips.  His hand involuntarily found its way to the back of her neck, where it lightly brushed the soft curls just escaped from her wedding hairstyle. The kiss may or may not have taken Ginny by surprise.  Either way she quickly recovered and answered it with her own tender response.  She turned slightly, dropping the remote and placing her hand on Harry's outstretched arm.  The kiss lasted just long enough for Harry to regain his normal heartbeat, and they pulled away slowly.

     "Oh," Ginny breathed, her eyes still closed.  Harry almost opened his mouth to stutter out an apology, but then her eyes opened and met his.  Something smoldering in her eyes prevented Harry from speaking.  Their lips found each other's once again, each desperately eager for more.

     "Ow," Ginny said, pulling away momentarily.  The arm of Harry's glasses had poked her and he quickly tore them off.

     "Sorry," he said, reaching for her again.  Ginny had shifted positions, and was now   kneeling on the couch, so she was level with Harry.  She smiled as their lips met again, one hand covering his.  His hands were cradling her face and he felt one of her own creep up to his hair.

     Harry couldn't sense anything else but the beauty he held in his arms; she was intoxicating.  He wasn't sure how or when they became horizontal on the couch; all he knew was he finally had her.  Somehow it didn't seem to matter that he had another room to go to or that Ginny might not have feelings for him.  She was here, and so was he, and she was in his arms.  Each kiss was an eternity and yet just a breath of time.  It was almost painful the moment between bringing one to an end and meeting once again.  Each kiss was unique and spoke volumes.  Harry wondered why it wasn't used more often in communication.

     Ginny wasn't sure how it happened.  By all common sense she should have slapped Harry after that first kiss.  But something spoke to her in it and she found herself returning his kisses and passion equally.  She was suddenly very aware of her past crush on Harry and the feelings she had been trying to submerge recently.  Perhaps this was all a dream….a horribly teasing dream.  But it made perfect sense, lying on the couch under him, meeting his lips again and again.  Something about it was so horribly right.

     Harry's lips explored her soft skin as he dropped kisses on her cheeks, then jaw, then just beneath her ears.  He continued to roam down her neck, kissing her collarbone and shoulders.  Ginny's hands rubbed over his scalp and the back of his neck, spurring him on.

     "Harry," she said softly.  Harry didn't respond, but switched to kissing the warm skin under her left ear and along her jaw again.

     "Harry," she said with more resolve, trying to clear the fog in her mind.  It took all her willpower, but somehow she had to stop him.  Her hand moved to his shoulders and she pushed slightly.  Harry stopped, confusion unmasked in his expression.

     "Let's not….I mean, let's not do anything we're going to regret," she gasped.  It had hurt him, she could tell.  They both sat up, Ginny pushing slightly at her hair that still hadn't come undone.  Harry reached over to the coffee table and picked up his glasses.  He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to will his heartbeat to slow.

     "You're right," he said with difficulty, clearing feeling the exact opposite.  He replaced his glasses slowly, not meeting her gaze.  Ginny watched him as he fought off emotions of anger and hurt.

     "This is sudden," he said finally looking up to meet her eyes and gave her an awkward smile.

     No it's not, Ginny thought, realizing she had wanted it for some time.  Why had she stopped him?  Because that little voice in her head said she'd regret it.  They were alone in the room together, late at night.  That small voice of doubt made Ginny think it would just turn into a one-night stand.  And she knew she wanted more.

     Harry stood and picked up his tux jacket from the arm of the couch.  He picked up the remote from the floor and offered it to Ginny.  She took it and switched off the TV, not keen on watching it anymore.

     The walk to the door wasn't nearly short enough, Harry thought with bitterness.  What a fool he had just made of himself.  He thought she wanted him, too.  A good little actress that can kiss like that….or maybe it was all in his imagination?  Did he want it so much he wasn't willing to see the signs?  She just didn't want him.  "Regret."  Of course she'd regret sleeping with her brother's best friend.  Harry started with a jolt as he realized that's where they would inevitably have ended.  Maybe Ginny was right to stop.  He hadn't honestly thought that far ahead.

     "Well, good-night," Harry said gruffly, opening the door.

     "Are you leaving tomorrow, Harry?" Ginny asked anxiously.  She couldn't let him leave like this.

     "I dunno."

     "Mum and Dad reserved the wedding party rooms until the 12th—day after tomorrow.  That way we could have a little vacation," Ginny said hopefully.  Harry shrugged.  He had Hogwarts to return to, but school didn't actually begin for some time.

     "I might go back to Hogwarts.  I have some last minute things I need to tie up," he said offhandedly.  Harry rubbed a hand over his hair, which reminded him of mere moments ago when Ginny's hands had been there; he quickly dropped his hand.

     "Good night," he said again, turning to leave.

     "Wait," Ginny said, stepping toward him.  She could tell he didn't think she was interested and she had to do something to change that.  Her arms slowly slid up around his neck and she pulled him down into another lingering kiss.  As he pulled away, she tugged at his lower lip.  Harry suppressed a groan.

     "Good-night," she said softly, slipping back into her room.  Harry turned away and started back down the hall.  He wasn't sure what it meant, but he was pretty sure it wasn't rejection.


	27. Recovery

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ginny leaned with her back against the door, shutting her eyes tightly. What had she just done? She'd ruined everything. She and Harry had finally become friends—good friends. And she'd just ruined all that progress by getting carried away. Now that Harry knew how she really felt, he wasn't likely to take things lightly anymore. Ginny touched a hand to her lips, and then quickly drew it away again.

She shook her head, still leaning against the door for support. No. They had gotten caught up in the atmosphere and emotion of the day. It's happened to tons of male-female relationships, she told herself, trying to draw confidence. It would have just turned into a one-night stand that would have made their relationship awkward from then on. Harry could never really be serious about _her._ She was only his best friend's little sister. 

"Wake _up_, Ginny," she said firmly.

With these convincing thoughts, Ginny pushed away from the door and walked cautiously over to the remote on the floor. She picked it up and turned off the power. The room was now eerily silent. Unnerved by the thought racing in her head, Ginny turned the TV back on to a news station. She left it glowing quietly in the main room and exited to her bedroom.

Still, Harry had kissed her. Ginny let the thought take shape as she climbed under the covers of one of the double beds. She shook her head angrily. She wasn't going to think that way. She'd just talk to Harry in the morning, and they'd work everything out. It was the atmosphere of the day, they were in the room alone late at night, it could have happened to anyone. As Ginny turned out the light, she wondered guiltily if Harry had felt what she had…

~*~

Percy was, unfortunately, still awake when Harry returned to his room. He was reading on the couch, and Harry had a suddenly feeling that Percy fancied himself a chaperone.

"Have trouble finding the room?" he asked as Harry flung his jacket onto his bed.

"No, they gave her the wrong key," Harry said confidently. He'd worked out that excuse in his head on the way back to his room. Percy grunted, not entirely convinced.

"Doesn't take that long to return a key," he said quietly. Harry shrugged and began undressing in the other room.

"She was lonely and wanted to talk. Having a hotel room by yourself can be kind of creepy," Harry said loud enough for Percy to hear.

"Maybe she should have stayed with Mum and Dad," Percy said.

"Oh, come on, Percy," Harry said, rolling his eyes even if Percy couldn't see. "She's a big girl."

"You staying tomorrow?" Percy asked, veering off topic.

"Not sure yet," Harry said, holding his breath. Would Ginny want to see him tomorrow? Would it be better if he slipped away quietly in the morning? Harry frowned. That sounded downright cowardly.

"Got to get back to Hogwarts?" Percy asked.

"Not really. No reason to go back, but then, no reason to stay here, either," Harry said. He cringed. That was a lie. He wanted to stay very much.

"Might as well stay, then. Mum and Dad already paid for two nights," Percy replied carelessly. Harry frowned and wondered if Percy was in on this growing conspiracy of getting him together with Ginny.

"Yeah. Look, I'm beat, Percy. See you in the morning," Harry said, poking his head around the bedroom door. Percy didn't look up from his book as he waved goodnight.

Harry closed the bedroom door, finally alone with his thoughts. He slid into bed, placing his glasses on the nightstand. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling as his mind raced. If he had thought it was all an accident, Ginny's last kiss had definitely made things a little more difficult. It certainly wasn't a pity kiss, although the situation had seemed to call for one. Could it possible she felt as he did? Sure, she'd once had a crush, but Harry wanted more than that. He wanted her to want him like he wanted her: not just lustfully, but to always be in the other's thoughts, wondering what he or she is doing. He wanted to just be near her at all times; would it be too much to ask that she want him like that, too? 

He wanted her to _love_ him, Harry realized with a start. Harry rolled over, to face the wall. This was getting ridiculous. He didn't love her—did he? Harry punched his pillow. Hell, they hadn't even ever dated. The closest they'd come to that was their recent snogging.

"This isn't getting me anywhere," Harry sighed aloud. He resolved to stop thinking about it; thinking only seemed to make the situation worse. He'd kissed her, he enjoyed it, and he would talk to her in the morning. If she didn't feel the same way, they'd get it out in the open, and then Harry would see to it that she would. He forced his thoughts to turn to the school year ahead. He still didn't have an adequate syllabus for the seventh years. Maybe he could work on that…Harry drifted off to sleep, a very special redhead still occupying his thoughts.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Very short, yes. Hm…sorry!


	28. Oh, the torture!

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"I can't believe I'm here," Harry said, arriving at Ginny's room early the next morning. He had decided to clear the air with her that morning. But just because he had decided that, didn't mean he wasn't terrified. 

_What the hell am I doing?_ He thought as he knocked on her door. He heard footsteps inside and the lock clicked as Ginny opened the door. She didn't bother to mask her surprise at seeing Harry as her eyes opened in shock.

"I wanted to say good-bye," Harry said, his hands placed carefully in his pockets.

"You're leaving then?" Ginny said, not bothering to hide her disappointment.

"Yeah, I want to finish up some things at the school," he said casually, losing his nerve to take the initiative. There was a moment of awkward silence before Ginny sighed.

"Come in." Harry started to protest but she grabbed him by the collar and dragged him inside. "Just come in," she said, closing the door. Harry leaned against the door, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, in the daylight, everything seemed unclear.

"What?" he asked, feeling like an ignoramus. Ginny sat on the couch—_the_ couch—and motioned for Harry to join her. He sat on the arm awkwardly, hands still shoved in his pockets.

"Honestly, Harry, you're acting like I'm going to take advantage of you," Ginny said in exasperation. He looked at her in surprise.

"I thought you'd think that's what I was going to do," he said, his glasses glinting in the sunlight streaming through the blinds.

"Well, I don't. Let's just-—talk about this, okay?" Ginny said. She wasn't sure how to approach the topic but the least Harry could do was be cooperative and not act like a virgin in a brothel.

"All right." Harry slid onto the couch, taking his hands out of his pockets and folding them carefully. He leaned forward, knees slightly apart, hands clasped. "I'm sorry about last night."

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. I mean, okay, it was your idea, but I didn't exactly stop you. Not right away," Ginny said with a smile. She had thought about what she would say last night. Everything was carefully mapped out. She had come to the conclusion that one invariably reaches when they are in denial—it was all a mistake.

"We were caught up in the atmosphere of the day. We'd attended a wedding, for heaven's sake. And we were alone in a dark room. Tired, most likely. And, let's face it, both recently been through dry spells and were feeling needy."

Harry realized she was referring to his lack of a recent relationship.

"Yeah," he said, momentarily lacking coherent speech. What was he supposed to say now? She clearly did not want to take it seriously. And here he'd thought he'd made some major breakthrough. It was a break all right, but not the kind he'd hope for…

"You needn't worry about dishonoring me, or anything like that," Ginny continued. "I know I had a crush on you at one time, but that's in the past. You don't have to worry about that complicating things." Ginny had hoped that this last statement would clear Harry's guilt. But he only sank into deeper thought, not meeting her eyes.

"No," he said finally, concluding the moment of silence between the two of them. "I don't think so, Ginny." Harry finally looked at her. He couldn't quite register the emotions on her face, except for perhaps confusion.

"I won't let this just be some freaky hormonal thing," he said, his voice gaining strength. "And while I appreciate your trying to help me get out of this situation, I won't let this opportunity pass me by. I'll kindly let you decide how you feel, but I won't deny that I felt that you returned the favor with more than just instinct." Harry was speaking louder now, and he realized if he didn't get his act under control, he might end up shouting.

"Maybe it wasn't the best way to let you know how I felt, but it's out there now," Harry said, still not moving from his position on the couch. He remembered that last kiss she gave him before closing the door. He'd be sorely mistaken if that were just an accident. But he couldn't tell her how she felt. That wouldn't be fair. No matter how much he'd like to resolve this here and now, he had to wait for her to come to terms with it, on her time.

"I have never thought of you as just my friend's little sister. There was a protection instinct there from the get-go, I'll admit to that. But it wasn't brotherly," Harry said quietly. Harry's gaze was honest and she met his eyes with uncertainty.

"I want to be near you more than I want anything else anymore. You're infectious, I'm afraid," Harry said, a smile breaking his solemn demeanor. 

Ginny thought somewhere in the distant corner of her mind that she should smile back. But her mind was racing too quickly to bother with facial expressions. This is not how things were supposed to go at all. They were supposed to clear the air and have a good laugh. Ginny had thought that he felt guilty for taking advantage of her crush. She had never expected this. She might have hoped for it, but expectations of reality and hopes tend to differ at times. She had no dialogue ready for this; and Ginny found herself consequently, and unusually, speechless.

"I'm leaving. But I'll be at Hogwarts," Harry said, standing. Ginny watched him in a stupor. She felt as though she were watching all this in a dream, through someone else's eyes; listening to him with someone else's ears. He leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek before parting ways. As the door closed behind him, Ginny's head dropped into her hands. And she cried.

~*~

"How are you?" Hermione asked. Evidently their room at the B&B had a fireplace. After a week or so, she had finally owled Ginny to let her know she'd talk to her at the Burrow around eight.

"Pretty good," Ginny said offhandedly. It wasn't worth getting into the Harry talk. "We've all just been pretty lazy lately. I finished two reports early."

"You have been bored!" Hermione laughed.

"Hey, I'm not that bad!" Ginny said defensively. "I've helped George and Fred over at the joke shop a few times last week. Guess they were pretty busy with kids stocking up for school."

Ginny could see Hermione shudder a bit at the thought of more young Fred and Georges crowding the halls at Hogwarts.

"How did the reception go?" Hermione asked, glancing over her "shoulder." Ginny wondered if Ron was in the room.

"Fine. Everyone cleared by ten," Ginny said, trying to think of something to say. "Mum caught Dad trying to smuggle the hotel telephone out of their room when we left. He's been sulking for a week."

Hermione laughed. "Couldn't resist, I suppose."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "How're things in Switzerland?"

"Beautiful!" Hermione crowed, having clearly waited for Ginny to ask the question. "I feel like Heidi, you know that book. It's wonderful. And quiet. Hold on, Ron wants to say something." Ron's head nudged Hermoine's out of the way. Ginny sat on the couch in the main room at the Burrow, watching the fireplace bemusedly.

"Hey, Gin. It's _too_ quiet here, if you ask me. Ow!" Ron said. Hermione must have smacked him. "But it's nice all the same. But I needed to ask you a favor."

"Sure," Ginny said absently, thinking about the next write-up she had to do for Yvonne.

"Can you and Harry go over to the house tomorrow and make sure all the boxes got there? I reckon there's about 50—" Ron paused a moment and looked as thought someone was speaking to him. "Pardon me. Hermione says it's 53." He rolled his eyes.

"I did _not_ roll my eyes!" Ron said, denouncing the act loudly. He grinned sheepishly and Ginny guessed Hermione had caught him. "Anyway. Hermione says to open some windows, too. Something about it being an old house and needing air."

Ginny tried not to look too stricken at the sound of Harry's name. She gulped and spoke, keeping her voice as flat as possible.

"I can do that. Why bother Harry?" Ginny said nonchalantly. Ron grinned.

"I don't think it'll bother him."

"He's got more to do right now, with school starting—" Ginny started, but Ron shook his head.

"No, I already talked to him. I don't really like the idea of your being in the house alone anyway," Ron said seriously. Now it was Ginny's turn to roll her eyes.

"Ron, for heaven's sake," she said. Mrs. Weasley entered the room and gave an excited squeal at the sight of Ron in the fireplace.

"Hi, Mum," Ron said tentatively.

"Hello, dear. How are you?" Mrs. Weasley said, plopping down beside Ginny on the couch. Ron didn't seem so keen on the interruption, but Ginny felt a surge of relief. Harry could take care of the house without her. Maybe if she escaped now, Ron would just forget to tell Harry to expect her.

Ginny patted her mother's knee and stood from the couch while Mrs. Weasley was performing her own version of the Spanish Inquisition on Ron.

"Wait, Gin," Ron said as she started upstairs. Ginny grimaced and turned to see her brother.

"You'll go won't you?" Ron asked hopefully. Ginny sighed and nodded. Ron grinned. "Great." Ginny retreated to her bedroom.

She really had ruined everything, she reflected. Once she would have been eager to see Harry again, especially just the two of them. But now she acted like a coward and wanted to avoid seeing him? What was her problem? He had made it quite clear that he liked her. Why was she still fighting her own feelings? Ginny fell onto her bed with a sigh. That was the question she just couldn't answer.

~*~

The next morning came too quickly, despite the fact that the remainder of the day after Hermione and Ron's "call" had dragged past. Ginny woke up and stared at the ceiling for some time before deciding to face the facts and get out of bed. Just in case, she checked her forehead for a fever. No such luck.

As Ginny slipped a print tee over her head, she glanced in the mirror. _Why was she still fighting her own feelings?_ The question wouldn't leave her alone. She could feed it a dozen excuses day after day without coming to any real conclusion. She had tried explaining that with Harry's new job it wasn't prudent for him to get into any kind of relationship right now; she tried saying that she _didn't_ like him; she tried saying how awkward it would be if they broke up. But reality was, none of those left an especially resounding case and she was running out of excuses.

     The clock beside her table began to whistle a funeral tune.  Ginny glanced at it and rolled her eyes.  She had to meet Harry at the house in fifteen minutes.

     "Come on," Ginny said, reluctantly scooping up Crookshanks who gave a meager meow.  Hermione had left the cat at the Burrow and would take him over to the house when she and Ron returned.  Crookshanks had lost some of the luster of his coat in his age, and some of his weight, too.  But he was still the same character.  Ginny toted the cat downstairs, where he began to squirm at the sight of the couch.  Ginny obliged and dumped him onto the cushions where he promptly curled up and began cleaning his face.

     "Ginny, dear, aren't you going over to the house this morning?" Mrs. Weasley asked as Ginny took a seat at the table with a glass of pumpkin juice and a muffin.  She picked up the paper and harrumphed an agreement.  Mrs. Weasley didn't push the matter and sat down at the table to join her daughter for breakfast.  After gulping down her breakfast, Ginny stood from the table and glanced at the clock on the wall.  Due to meet Harry in ten minutes.  Maybe if she got down to the house early, she could finish everything up without Harry and leave him a note telling him.

     "Gonna go now, Mum. Dunno when I'll be back," Ginny said carelessly.  _Hopefully soon_, she thought.

     "All right dear, have a good time," Mrs. Weasley said carefully.  Ginny cringed, recognizing the line from her early years of dating.  As she would dash out the door to meet her date before he had a chance to meet her parents, Mrs. Weasley would call out that exact line.  Mr. Weasley, however, remained silent as he stood in the doorway and glowered at the young man.

     Ginny apparated to the front door of the house.  She glanced at the surrounding neighborhood before whispering the password. The sleepy neighborhood had yet to wake up this Saturday morning.  Someone in a headband and other ridiculous running gear jogged past, waving at Ginny as he did so.  Ginny returned the wave, impressed by the amiable attitude.  Most of the other houses looked similar to Ron and Hermione's: small, cozy, differentiating primarily in colors and front gardens.

     She turned back to the door, turned the knob half-right and a quarter to the left as she whispered the password Ron had instructed.  She opened the door to a hardwood floor hallway, sunlight filtering in from the windows flanking the door.  Ginny could see dust floating in the sunbeams.  The hall had a crème upper part, divided by oak panels on the bottom that matched the floor.  Stepping carefully around boxes that had been recklessly placed around the hall, Ginny turned left into the open doorway that led to a large parlor that took up the entire left portion of the house.  A stately fireplace of warm brick was the only thing on the far wall, besides four windows, two on either side of it.  A window on Ginny's left looked out toward the street and gave a view of the front yard.  Two windows beside each other stood on the opposite wall, opening out to the backyard.  Ginny could see the swingset from that window.  

     Eager to see the remainder of the house, Ginny returned to the hall and entered the closed door that was on the right wall from the front door.  This was a medium-sized bedroom painted a muted pea green.  Its walls were also cut in half by wood paneling, but these panels were stained a slightly darkened color to give the room an antiquated feel.  Ginny cut through the room to a door on the opposite side, which led to a "powder room," as Mrs. Weasley preferred to call it.  The room was the crème color of the hall, but edged along the ceiling with ivy the same color as the bedroom's muted green.  There was enough room for a shower on Ginny's right, a sink to her left, and a toilet to the left of the door in the northwest corner.  Ginny passed through this door to continue her tour.  This door opened into the kitchen, which had continued the color of the hall.  Ginny stepped further into the room and saw that the corner of the bedroom kept the hall from blending too completely into the kitchen, which provided for a closed atmosphere to the room.  A window over the sink provided another view into the backyard.  She was surprised to turn around and see a flight of stairs set against the wall, the bottom stair ending a few feet before the wall to the loo.  Naturally, Ginny climbed the stairs.  The upstairs surface area did not completely cover the downstairs, as it had only had a few rooms upstairs.  A bathroom was immediately in front of on coming up the stairs and turning onto the floor, and then two rooms cuddled side-by-side comprised the remainder of the level.  Ginny smiled.  It was a perfect, cozy, little cottage.

     She jumped as she heard a door downstairs.

     "Ginny?"  Harry called into the assumingly empty house.  Ginny froze, realizing she had spent too much time touring, and her "great plan" had been foiled.  Ginny could hear Harry trailing through the kitchen.

     "OW!" He said, swearing.  Ginny assumed he must have overlooked a box.  

     "What did they pack, their own cast-iron stove?" he said.  Recovering, he continued, calling Ginny again.  Taking a breath, Ginny answered him.

     "Up here," she said, still rooted to the spot.  She knew she would look awkward, standing there like a statue, having clearly nothing to occupy her attention.

     Harry's head appeared as he came up the stairs.

    "Oh, hi.  Sorry I'm a bit late," he apologized with a smile.  Ginny shrugged.

     "I was looking at the house," she said.  Harry nodded, glancing around.

     "It's nice.  They got really lucky," Harry said, tucking his hands into his pockets.  Ginny nodded mutely.

     "Well, why don't we start taking inventory?  Hermione told me she kept a running total of the boxes, which should be 53," Harry said cheerily, turning around and heading back downstairs.  Ginny watched him go in confusion.  Was he ignoring the tension, or did he just not feel it?  She followed him back downstairs, determined to act as nonchalant as he.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

I offer my apologies for any and all errors in chapters 27/28.  I am trying to get these up quickly and might miss some typos! :) Thanks for the encouragement from all your reviews! Fantabulous!


	29. Try, try again

A/N: Use of F-word; Sorry, but it happens (i.e.Bridget Jones's Diary, anyone? :) )

Chapter Twenty-Nine

     "Fifteen boxes in the parlor alone," Harry called over his shoulder as Ginny followed him down the steps.

     "They just want us to count?" Ginny said, stepping over a box at the foot of the stairs.  What kind of prat put a box there?  She wondered, glancing back at it.  As she did so, Ginny tripped over another box.  She found herself in Harry's arms, her nose smashed unceremoniously against his chest.

     "If we can manage to stay up, I guess," Harry said, pushing her back up to her feet.  Ginny glared at the offending box, an easy means of avoiding Harry's eyes.  Harry followed her gaze and he scrutinized it.

     "I think that's the same one I tripped over.  Nasty bugger, that one," he said, shaking his head.

     "Leave Hermione and Ron to pack boxes that aim to kill," Ginny muttered, shoving the box with her foot.  She followed Harry into the hall.  He pulled out a sheaf of paper from a back pocket.

     "You want to keep tally or should I?" he said.  Ginny shrugged and took the paper.  She watched her hands, carefully avoiding any contact with Harry's.

     "I'll do it," she said, taking the pencil Harry proffered.  "Start counting."  Harry obliged and began counting the boxes filling the hall, then moved into the parlor to double-check his numbers.  They moved through each room of the house, Harry counting, and Ginny silently double-checking his numerations.

     "Fifty-three," she said satisfactorily and tapped the pencil against the paper.  They had just finished the kitchen.  The movers had stuffed most of the boxes into the kitchen, clearly uninterested in hauling boxes upstairs.  This resulted in a pack from back-to-front method, with the kitchen being barely maneuverable, and the front bedroom hardly hindered.  Harry stood in the kitchen, leaning against the sink.  He was looking at the boxes thoughtfully.

     She was a trooper and had played off her anxiety well.  But Harry could see just by the way she held herself that she was tense.  He smiled to himself, admitting that he liked the effect he had on her.  It was a step in the right direction.  Not content to let her go so easily, he spoke.

     "I think we could do Ron and Hermione a real favor," he said finally, looking up at her from the boxes.  Ginny froze.

     "Oh?" she said, not sure what else to say.  Harry's expression was unreadable and it made her nervous.

     "You know how organized Hermione is.  Maybe we should open the boxes and make sure everything is organized.  You know, bedroom, toilet, kitchen…would save them some time when they get back home.  I mean, who wants to spend a week going through boxes after their honeymoon?" Harry said innocently.  He could see Ginny working out the logic in her own mind.  Her goodwill was raging a battle against her flight reflex.  Her goodwill won.

     "No one, I suppose," Ginny sighed, although she had to admit, having never been on a honeymoon herself, she really didn't know.

     "All right then.  Let's get going."  Harry opened a box in the far corner of the kitchen and sifted through it.  It contained books.  He shuffled through into the bottom of the box—all books.

     "Parlor," he said, lifting the box.  He grunted slightly as he shifted the box in his arms, and then he made his way carefully out of the room.  Ginny sighed and opened a box.  How long could this take?

~*~

     "Chinese all right?" Harry asked, calling out to Ginny.  They had worked through lunch, agreeing to pause at two for a brief meal.

     "Fine," she answered from the bedroom.  She knelt beside a box, stuffing items into it.  She had just swapped some things from a box in the kitchen with a box in the bedroom, making both more suitable to their present position and thus saving her the trouble of hoisting the box.

     "Great, 'cause it's here," Harry said, entering the room with two small Styrofoam boxes.

     "Not more boxes," Ginny moaned, looking up at Harry.  He laughed.

     "I think you'll like these contents," he said, handing her one and sitting cross-legged across from her.  Ginny watched him in confusion.

     "In here?" Ginny asked, opening the box and inhaling the sweet smell of sweet and sour pork.

     "Couldn't find a table.  Turns out Ron and Hermione haven't gotten one yet," Harry said, taking a bite of an egg roll.

     "Figures.  Hermione bought all the important things—"

     "Books," Harry said, finishing her sentence with a laugh.  "Yeah, I noticed, too."

     "Has she really read _all_ of those?" Ginny said in disbelief.

     "I wouldn't doubt it," Harry answered, slightly in awe of Hermione.  "She's never been one to just admire a book's pretty cover."

     "Are you ready for school?" Ginny asked, falling back into the ever-popular, always-safe topic.

     "God, why does everyone ask me that?" Harry cried, shaking his head and digging into the fried rice.

     "I'm sorry," Ginny said suddenly.  His outburst had surprised her.

     "It's all right," Harry said with a sigh.  "I'm just getting tired of answering that question, that's all.  I'm sorry."

     "Well…let's talk about something else, then," Ginny said slowly, entirely unsure what they would talk about.

     "Anything on your mind?" Harry asked, uncrossing his legs and stretching them out beside Ginny.

     _Of course, you twit!_ She wanted to scream.

     "We've already talked about you enough," she said, the words slipping out of her mouth before she thought them through completely.  Harry grinned and Ginny ducked her head, wishing she had left her hair down so that it could hide her embarrassment now.

     "Oh, indulge a narcissist," he said, his damned smile still present.

     _Now what, Big Mouth?_ Ginny berated herself.  _You better have something to back up that ridiculous comment_.

     "I'm just worried that you—uh—you—er—don't get enough sleep.  You look peaked," she said hastily.  She groaned inwardly and wished she could roll her eyes.  Nothing was further from the truth, of course.  Harry looked just as good as ever, his black hair unruly and his bright green eyes grinning at her.  Even that stupid casual blue-green plaid shirt, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows added to his allure.

     "I'm flattered you're taking such an interest in my appearance," he said, leaning back, his palms resting on the hardwood floor.  He was enjoying this immensely.  Ginny shifted uncomfortably.  He knew it would be so much easier if he swept her up and snogged her senseless right there.  But then he would miss all the distinct pleasure of watching this act she was trying so hard to keep going.

     "Well, Mum mentioned it first," she said.

     "I haven't seen your Mum," Harry said coolly, acting completely confused.

     "She, you know, hears things," Ginny said, her voice trailing off weakly.  Her eyes were darting around the room, as though searching for a way out of her self-made trap.

     "Ginny," Harry said, drawing her eyes back to his.  She dragged her gaze down from the northwest corner and met his eyes.  She loved his spectacles.  Had she ever told him that?  They were so simple and charming.

     "It's okay," he said slowly, bringing his legs in and crossing them again.  He leaned forward, hands clasped.  They didn't say anything for a moment, each sitting quietly, their minds weighing thousand different thoughts.

     She squinted at him, her mind racing.  He knew it was just an act.  And he knew she couldn't keep it up all day. Ginny knew if she tried to suppress her feelings any longer alone in this house with him, she'd go nutters.

     "We better finish up," she finally said, forcing herself to continue to meet his green eyes.  She didn't need a relationship right now.  She didn't.

      "All right," Harry said, unfolding his long legs and standing.  "But we're nowhere near finished," he said, meeting her eyes.  Ginny had a feeling he wasn't talking about the cottage anymore.

~*~

     "Your sister is a puzzle," Harry said to Ron.  They were having another head-flue conversation, this one without Hermione standing over Ron's shoulder.  She was outside their cabin, napping in the warm afternoon sun.  Harry ran a hand through his hair, shaking some of the dust out of it.  The house had been coated in a thin layer of it.  He wondered if his hair would ever return to its original jet black.

     "You don't have to tell me that," Ron said, rolling his eyes.  "What's she done now?"

     "Did she tell you—or Hermione—that we kissed?" Harry asked slowly.

     "No!  Bloody hell! NO!" Ron said loudly.  "Fucking little bugger never breathed a bloody word.  What the fuck happened?"

     "Hell, Ron, watch your language," Harry said.

     "You watch yours, prat.  When did this happen?"  Ron asked eagerly.

      "After the reception. I carried her bag back to her room.  We were in the room alone, and well…it happened," Harry said, trying to recall the moment.  It wasn't difficult; he had replayed it over in his mind time after time, trying to remember every detail vividly.

     "Shit.  What did she do?" Ron asked.  Harry shook his head sadly.

     "Wanted to pretend it never happened.  I told her how I felt.  I'm telling you, Ron, that kiss wasn't just reactionary.  There was some force behind it," Harry said.  Ron made a slight grimace.

     "I'll take your word on that," he said.  "So now what?"

     "So now I have to make her admit that she likes me, too.  It's already there, she just won't admit it.  Has she always had problems with denial?"

     "How the fuck am I supposed to know?  I don't exactly go to group therapy sessions with her!" Ron retorted.  He shook his head.  "Damn."

     "I thought for sure," he said softly.  "Look, Harry, I agree with you.  I think we all do.  Everyone knows you two are right for each other.  Let me talk to Hermione about this, all right?  She'd know what to do."

     Harry nodded.  Hermione _was_ Ginny's best friend.  If she didn't have some helpful insight, no one would.

     "You going to be in your room later? She can get you when she wakes up," Ron said.  Harry nodded and sighed.

     "I've got nowhere to be," he said, looking up at the young girls in the Dutch painting.  They were playing a "rousing" game of Ring-Around-the-Rosy.  They fell down, giggling, only to get up and start again.  Harry sighed.

     "Fine.  Sometime after dinner, all right?  Damn," Ron swore, thinking about the situation again.  "And I thought she was the smart one."

~*~

     "What are you doing about this, Harry?" Hermione asked him later.  Harry was back in front of the fireplace again.  He was actually sitting on the couch, his knees apart and his forearms resting on them as he stared at Hermione in the fireplace.

     "Mostly just trying to be with her at different opportunities.  The cottage thing, well, that was my idea," Harry admitted.  Hermione clicked her tongue.

     "Ron didn't tell me that," she said.  Harry could see her making a mental note to address Ron later.

     "I told her I wasn't going to tell her how to feel, but that I knew that she returned that kiss," Harry admitted, trying to recall his exact words.

     "Brilliant, Harry!" Hermione said brightly.

     "Well, I can't say I've seen much progress because of it," he said helplessly.

     "You will, trust me.  If there's anything a woman hates more, it's being told what to do, or worse, how to feel.  And that second part lets her know that you're on to her and you're not going to let her get away.  We like to be chased, be held accountable.  You didn't need my advice.  You love her, for heaven's sake, you know her as well as I do!" Hermione said, complimenting Harry.  He grinned sheepishly.

     "Maybe," he said.  "Do you need any more favors at the house?"  Hermione laughed.

     "Give me some time; I'll think of something for you to do.  Oh, shut up, Ron!" Hermione said, turning away from Harry slightly.  He wished he had heard Ron's smart comment.  She turned back to Harry.

     "Just don't give up on her.  Maybe this is all she wants.  You know, be chased; it makes her feel worthwhile," Hermione said knowingly.  Harry took in her words and nodded slowly.

     "All right, Boss," he said.  "I'll blame you if this works out."

     Hermione grinned.  "Deal.  Now if you'll excuse me…"

     Harry waved her away.  "Don't let me stop you," he said.  Hermione blew a kiss at him and disappeared.  Harry sighed and glanced up at the painting, musing over Ginny.  His contemplation boiled down to one, indescribable conclusion: women.


	30. The moment you've all been waiting for

A/N: Geez, I can't believe I've made it this far! I've said it a million times—this story is writing itself and it's just not ready to get to some spots yet. Temperamental, this one. *rolls eyes* Thanks so much for all the great/encouraging reviews. I am glad you guys are enjoying this; I'm having fun writing it! It's one giant party! WHEEEEE.…ahem. Yes, well, carry on.

Fluffy fluff-fluff :)

Chapter Thirty

"No." Ginny crossed her arms and stared at Ron in the fireplace. He returned to the fireplace the day after Harry and Ginny's packing episode, asking for another favor.

"Please, Gin? It would be a big help if you could just get a few things going for us. You know, the lawn needs some care, put up the bookshelf…hold up, Hermione's got something." Ron's head ducked slightly and then his arm appeared, offering Ginny a slip of paper. She remained on the couch, her eyes squinting at Ron as she refused to budge.

"C'mon, Ginny, please? Think of this as a wedding present," Ron said, beginning to pout.

"I already gave you one. And you can't give it back," she said.

"Well, tell me what you have to do that's so important then?" Ron asked hotly. Ginny pursed her lips and continued to glare at him.

"That's none of your business, Ronald Weasley."

"Which translates to nothing. Come on, I never thought I'd see the day that I had to beg my sister for a favor. Has your heart turned to stone?"

"I've just got other things to do," Ginny said carelessly tossing the lie at him. Ron snorted.

"No you don't. You told Hermione that you finished two reports early. That means you're almost done with the next that's due next week. And _that_ means you have time on your hands."

"What do you know?" Ginny said ignoring the truth of his remark.

"Unless you just don't want to be around Harry," Ron said, feigning innocence.

"Of course not!" Ginny spat. Ron realized he had hit the right issue as she shifted uncomfortably. He still offered her the piece of paper.

"You don't want to make him do this by himself, do you?" Ron asked, his eyes wide. Ginny growled, jumped off the couch, and snatched the piece of paper. Ron grinned as she looked over it. "It's a diagram of the house Hermione made that shows where she'd like some things to go."

Hermione had practically drawn the house to scale. Ginny glanced over the floor plans for the downstairs, then scanned over the ones Hermione had made for upstairs.

"This could take us all day—maybe two!" Ginny cried, waving the paper. Ron smiled.

"Well, then it takes all day, maybe two." Ginny glared at her brother.

"I want to talk to Hermione," she growled. Ron tilted his head to accompany the shrug Ginny assumed he made.

"Fine." His head disappeared and a few moments later, Hermione was in the flue. She had sunglasses propped atop her head like a headband. Ginny realized she must have been outside.

"What's up, Ginny?" Hermione asked sweetly. "Are the plans indecipherable?"  
"They're perfectly clear," Ginny said in a low, threatening tone. "What are you trying to pull?"

"What do you mean?"

"This—" Ginny waved the paper under Hermione's nose, "is not normal."

"I told Ron we were taking advantage of you two, but he wouldn't listen. I'm sorry, you're right. Give me that. We'll do it when we get home." Hermione reached out for the paper. Ginny snatched it away.

"What is going on?"

"Just trying to get our house in order. You're awfully suspicious, has anyone ever told you that?" Hermione asked, withdrawing her arm. Ginny rubbed a hand over her eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" she said, suddenly tired. Her anger was gone now, and Ginny sank to the floor in defeat.

"Because we know what's good for you," Hermione said cheerily. She was glad to see Ginny's defenses were breaking.

"You're going to mess everything up," Ginny said, tears forming in her eyes.

"Ginny, you're positively barmy. You've worked hard on refining your crush into something you stick in your back pocket and forget about but now that there's something real you don't know what to do," Hermione said, her tone slightly sharp. She didn't want to hurt Ginny, but it was time someone told the girl to face facts. "The only one here who is going to screw everything up is you if you sit on your bum any longer."

Ginny didn't respond, but only looked down at the paper in her hand.

"Tomorrow at nine, or he'll give it up completely, I'd wager," Hermione said. With a pop, she was gone. Ginny crumpled the paper up in her fist angrily. After a moment, her muscles relaxed and she released the paper to smooth it out again. She sighed and headed upstairs for bed. She had a lot of thinking to do.

~*~

"Harry! What are you doing here? Sit down, sit down. Are you hungry, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, ushing Harry into the house. He had arrived at the Burrow early the next morning, anticipating Ginny backing out of the arrangement.

"I'm fine, thanks. Is Ginny up yet?"

"I don't think so. Did you have plans?" Mrs. Weasley sat down at the table across from Harry, looking at him in curiosity.

"She didn't tell you? We were going over to Ron and Hermione's to finish some things for them." Mrs. Weasley's face darkened.

"She never said a word!" Mrs. Weasley cried indignantly. She stood up and shouted up the stairs.

"GINNY! GINNY!" She said, placing one hand on the barrister. She looked toward Harry apologetically.

"I'm so sorry, dear. She's been rather odd lately. GINNY!" Harry heard scuffling overhead and the sound of a door being thrown open.

"WHAT, MUM, WHAT?!" Ginny shouted back at her mother. Mrs. Weasley's face flushed slightly and she marched up the stairs to speak to her daughter. She needn't have bothered, because Harry heard all of their conversation anyhow. They somehow forgot that they were but mere centimeters away from each other, rather than several floors.

"Why didn't you tell me you had somewhere to be? I would have woken you!" Mrs. Weasley hissed at Ginny.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mum, leave me alone!" Ginny countered.

"Harry's downstairs!" Mrs. Weasley said hotly. Harry tried not to laugh at the extreme severity with which she was treating the situation.

"Harry?" Ginny said, her voice losing all its confidence. "Harry's here?"

"That's what I said, you silly girl. He's waiting for you."

"Mum, please," Ginny said desperately. "I'm not going anywhere. Tell him—tell him I'm sick."

"What a thing to say. You aren't sick at all. Get down there."

"Mum, I'm not going," Ginny said, her voice on the edge of a whimper. Mrs. Weasley's voice dropped somewhat, and Harry couldn't catch all her words, but he could hear the threatening tone in her voice.

"…didn't raise impolite…you _will_…it's _Harry_," was all Harry managed to hear from his station at the table downstairs. Ginny trudged down the stairs, her eyes shifting awkwardly and avoiding Harry's own.

"Hi, Harry. Sorry, I'm not exactly ready yet," she said, glancing down at the floor. Harry wished she would just look at him. He felt like she had taken 5 steps backward and returned to her original state of a scared hero-worshipping little girl. Harry's eyes traveled from her feet to her head and disagreed with her. She was clearly dressed and ready and probably had been for some time. Harry smiled, imagining her pacing back and forth in her room, debating with herself.

"Fine, take your time. I'm in no rush," he said, leaning back in the chair. Harry stretched and laid one arm across the back of the chair next to him. Ginny glanced up at his movement but still didn't meet his eyes. It was starting to get annoying, actually.

"Thanks," she said, turning on her heel and returning to her room. Mrs. Weasley descended the stairs as Ginny ran back up. She shot her daughter a disapproving glare before turning to Harry with a bright smile.

"Sorry, Harry. Are you sure you wouldn't like anything?"

"Actually some tea would be great. I might be here awhile," he said, grinning. Mrs. Weasley perked considerably, relieved to have something to do.

"Coming up, then," she said, disappearing into the kitchen. Harry heard the comforting sounds of Mrs. Weasley puttering around the kitchen. He glanced upstairs wondering how long it would take Ginny to talk herself into it.

~*~

In all actuality, it didn't take long at all. Harry knew she was stubborn and prideful to boot. She wasn't going to lose face, not today anyway.

"I can't believe I'm setting up my brother's house. You'd think he'd be capable of a few things himself," Ginny grumbled as she helped Harry shove the six-foot tall bookcase against the far wall in the parlor.

"It builds character," he said, placing his hands on his lower back and leaning back to stretch his tired muscles. They'd worked for about four hours, lifting, shoving and pushing things into place according to Hermione's diagram.

"If I come back in a month and everything is rearranged, someone's head will be on a platter," Ginny said, flopping down onto the floor beside the bookcase. After they moved all the boxes out, she'd swept and scrubbed the parlor from top to bottom before replacing things according to the mock blueprint. A few places had empty spots giving the room something like a baby tooth gap. For example, Ron and Hermione did not yet have a coffee table to place in front of the old couch Bill and Chessie had donated to the couple. There was also a place for an armchair that Hermione had included but conveniently forgotten that they hadn't bought yet.

"It won't be mine," Harry said, opening a carton of books. He began taking them out in handfuls and lining them up on the shelves.

"What are you doing?" Ginny moaned, watching his motion. He paused, and looked down at her, books in both hands.

"Herding ducks. What does it look like I'm doing?" Harry said sarcastically. Ginny shook her head and motioned for Harry to hand her the books. She began lining them up on the floor in front of her, placing them in various spots.

"What are _you_ doing?" Harry asked incredulously.

"If this is Hermione's library, it's alphabetized," Ginny explained putting _Positively Useful Potions_ by A. Worder behind _Your Best Friend: the Everything Book of Spells_ by Rowena Woldson.

"You have got to be joking," Harry said. "We'll never finish anything else!"

"I'll sit here, you do the grunt work," Ginny said cheerily, the idea clearly appealing to her.

"I can't move that bed alone!" Harry said, pointing in the direction of the bedroom. When the movers had dropped off the queen-sized bed in the front bedroom, they had neglected to refer to Hermione's diagram. It was in the corner of the bedroom, nestled up to the front window. Hermione's diagram had the headboard against the same wall, but unfortunately in the center and not the corner.

"You'll think of something," Ginny said, placing _Famous Hufflepuffs of Hogwarts_ by Erik Adams in the front of her line. Harry shook his head and sighed, determined to move the bed.

Forty-five minutes and one hundred and seventy-three books later, Ginny had the small library lined up on the shelves. She smiled proudly, taking some amount of distinction in her work. She paused a moment, relishing the silence of the house. Ginny cocked her head to the side. It was too quiet. Where was Harry? She wandered out of the parlor, thankful she didn't have to save her neck from any dangerous boxes. In the hall, she saw that the bedroom door across the way was ajar slightly. Ginny smiled as she peeked her head around the door.

Harry had found enough strength to push the bed into the appropriate place, and he even dug bedsheets and the cover out of a box and managed to dress the bed. It appeared to have been too much for him, however, and he was sprawled flat on his back atop the bed, glasses askew on his nose. One hand was laid across his stomach, which rose gently with each swell of breath. The other was propped behind his head. 

Ginny crept into the room, relishing the sight. She felt freer to look at him now, without his own scrutinizing gaze meeting hers. There was a smudge on his nose from the cleaning, and she could see a slight layer of dust in his hair. Ginny reached out to brush it away, but paused, her hand hovering over his scalp. She drew her hand back slowly. The silence in the room was oppressive, and she took a step away from the bed nervously. She wanted nothing more than to curl up beside him in the comfort of his arms; and that frightened her. She watched him a moment longer and stepped forward on impulse. Leaning over him, Ginny brushed her lips lightly against Harry's. She stood up again, and turned to go. Harry's hand snaked out and grasped her wrist.

"Ginny," he called her softly. Ginny cringed like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. She glanced down at the hand as she allowed herself to be pulled back to the side of the bed. The hand that had been on Harry's stomach was now curled around her wrist, and he propped himself up on the elbow of the hand previously behind his head.

"Trying a Sleeping Beauty?" he teased her quietly. Harry sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He patted the mattress beside him, indicating Ginny should do the same. Ginny obliged and sat down. She watched as Harry's hand slipped from her wrist to intertwine his fingers with hers. The act sent delightful shivers coursing through her.

"Did you want to be the princess?" she countered. A slow smile spread across Harry's face.

"Only if you didn't," he replied, giving her hand a squeeze. She was still staring at their hands silently.

"Ginny," he said again, leaning his forehead against her temple. "Am I that painful to look at?"

Harry sat up again as she turned slightly, meeting his eyes. Her brown eyes were full of emotions as they met Harry's. With his free hand, Harry reached up to cup her face in his hand gently. After a moment, he slid his hand down around her shoulders and pulled her against him. Ginny felt herself relax instinctively and she laid her head on his shoulder, nestled into his neck.

"Harry," she said, her voice quavering. Harry tried not to sigh. Why was it that females felt the need to cry at the drop of a hat? Trying not to hold it against her, he didn't answer as he waited for her to continue.

"I think I love you," she finally said, exhaling as she did so. Ginny close her eyes and focused on absorbing the moment. She wanted to memorize his scent and the feel of his skin. She thought of her hand and realized she wasn't quite sure where hers began and his ended.

"That's a comforting thought," Harry said, kissing her head. Ginny smiled.

"And if you break my heart, Ron will kill you."

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

  Don't worry there is more to come.  I noticed that I got the most reviews when I asked for them outright; so I will do it again!  If you have made it this far (for which I heartily commend you) please take time to review!  Everyone likes a little ego boost but unfortunately I am not clever enough to make the request a silly song like some.  *sigh* Some people get all the talent.  Anyway please humor me! :)


	31. End of August

A/N: Stiiiillllll fluffy, but hey, that's why you're here!!

Chapter Thirty-One

When Harry returned to Hogwarts, he thought that life had never looked brighter. He had the most beautiful woman by his side and her love besides. For nostalgia, he wandered into the Gryffindor common room when he returned home late that night. It recalled endless memories, both good and bad. He remembered many victory celebrations with Fred, George, and Lee leading the party; playing chess with Ron and losing mercilessly while Hermione sat close at hand, studying her eyebrows off as Seamus nearby took that phrase literally as he worked on a new spell; Ginny breezing into the room, shooting off a few smart comments. Harry smiled and shook his head. Why had he ever bothered with Cho?

Harry took a seat on the sofa and propped his feet on the ottoman that trundled over to accompany him. Sometimes he wondered when he'd grown up. A part of him still felt very connected to this room—to Hogwarts, specifically. And that part continually longed to return, a boy wanting only for his youth.

But then there were some things about his youth that he would never want back again. Voldemort, quite obviously for one. The Dursley's home would be another memory he'd quite rather forget. Watching Sirius disappear--Harry wasn't sure if someone could really die in such a dense manner. To be wholly there and then wholly gone wasn't exactly what Harry could ever term as death, but merely an eternal absence. Yes, his childhood hadn't exactly been "normal." But then, as Hermione often reminded him, wizards were rarely ever viewed as so anyway.

Ron and Hermione would return home tomorrow. Harry and Ginny had finished the house as best they could. There were a number of boxes that remained, but Ron and Hermione had no room for criticism. They would be able to return to a real home and not just a sea of brown cartons.

Harry and Ginny had returned to the Burrow after finishing late that night. Harry relished working side-by-side with Ginny. She laughed now, her eyes dancing again. Harry wanted to make sure she would always stay that way. Even Mrs. Weasley commented on Ginny's improved mood when they returned home. Harry and Ginny had just smiled at each other; Harry broadly, Ginny shyly. They weren't telling anyone yet.

Harry smiled, recalling the way her tension had flowed out of her when she had leaned against him. It was hard to imagine that just a few months ago Ron was confronting him about his attraction. When he had finally let his attraction "go," it had grown into a love more consuming than he could ever imagine. It was unfair that in a mere week, his days would be continually tied up with teens and keeping their minds on schoolwork.

~*~

"Hello, hello!" Harry called, opening the door to Hermione and Ron's new home. He glanced around him. Very little had changed, thank goodness. He noticed that the small table in the hall had a vase of flowers added to it, and a mirror hung above that.

"Harry! Come in!" Hermione's voice drifted around the corner from the kitchen. He obeyed and sauntered further into the house.

"Just in time," Ron grunted from beside what appeared to be an upside-down table. He had several tools by his side but clearly had no idea what he was doing. "Hermione fell in love with a stupid table while we were in Switzerland." Hermione was leaning against the counter, which separated the kitchen from the dinette area. She laughed, clearly enjoying Ron's dilemma.

"Let me guess, 'some assembly required?'" Harry laughed, rolling up the sleeves of his gold shirt. He had bought several items to create something of a Gryffindor wardrobe. Tacky, perhaps, and no doubt the other students would accuse him of favoring Gryffindor. But it was hard not to when it was clearly the best house in the school, anyway.

"You got it," Ron said, standing. He had pieces of wood in his hair that must have come from the table. "She refused to help."

"I'm reading the directions for you, aren't I?" she responded innocently, waving a piece of paper. "I stick to my strengths."

"Well, while you're over there why don't you occupy yourself with translating the German directions? Maybe they've got something against us English. Could be a hidden step in there," Ron grumbled, moving over to the other end of the table, trying to fit together pieces.

"Oh!" Hermione said suddenly. Ron glanced up.

"Did you find one?" he asked. She smiled sheepishly.

"No. But they have matching chairs." Ron glared at her and growled softly before returning to the work. Harry glanced at the directions Hermione held, and then joined Ron on the floor. He held some pieces together and indicated for Ron to hold them. He picked up a few tools and began working.

"Bloody brilliant Harry Potter. I suppose you kill evil warlords, too?" Ron said as Harry helped him finish up the fourth leg.

"When I have time," Harry said nonchalantly, dusting off his hands.

"I think maybe I married the wrong guy," Hermione said suggestively to Harry. She glanced at Ron who gave her something of a smoldering look. "Or not," she said weakly.

"Enjoy the honeymoon?" Harry asked with a grunt as he and Ron proceeded to turn the table right.

"Fantastic," Ron said, glancing at Hermione. "I think Hermione's got pictures."

Hermione took the hint and sprinted upstairs.

"Here," she said, coming back down the stairs, flipping through a handful of pictures. Harry took them and looked around for a chair.

"See, I told you we need chairs, Ron," Hermione said, placing the ad for the matching chairs in his pocket.

"When you start to make money yourself, then we'll talk," Ron said, returning the paper to her hand.

"I've never been to Switzerland; this is really beautiful," Harry breathed, looking at the pictures of the breathtaking view. 

"Who's this?" Harry held up a picture of an attractive young couple. They had their arms wrapped around each other as they stood on the porch of a cabin.

"Oh, that's Cassie and Mark. They were on their honeymoon, too. They had a cabin near ours," Hermione said, slipping a hand into Ron's while pointing to the picture with her free hand. "That's on our porch."

"That's the cabin," Hermione said, looking over Harry's shoulder as he flipped through the pictures. She pointed out little details and explained different things. It took awhile because different objects would spark a memory that launched both of them into a story. Harry smiled at his friends' enthusiasm and contentment.

"How's it going here?" Ron asked, releasing Hermione's hand to slip and arm around her shoulder.

"Fine," Harry said, still flipping through the pictures. "I think Crookshanks misses you, Hermione. Ginny will be bringing him over later."

"Are you going to stay for Ginny?" Ron asked, grinning.

"I thought about it," Harry answered, handing the pictures back to Hermione. He looked around the kitchen/dinette area and grinned.

"I love what you've done with the place."

"Oh, thanks so much for all that you did, Harry," Hermione said. "It was so great to come home to a real house and not a storage garage."

"I thought you might think so," Harry responded. He looked at the table, wishing he could sit down. "I haven't gotten you two a wedding gift. How about I get three chairs?"

"They cost a fortune, Harry, I wouldn't dream of it," Hermione said quickly.

"Well, I'm just looking out for myself here. I'd like to sit down," Harry admitted. Ron laughed.

"Always looking out for number one, Potter," he teased.

"Somebody's got to," Harry returned with a smile. "Let's go into the parlor."

The three trouped into the large room, talking and laughing. 

     "Wait…" Harry looked around the room.  "Weren't there two bookcases in here?  Yeah…one there and there.  That desk was in the bedroom," he said, pointing to the case beside the window and a space on the east wall where a desk now stood.

     "Hermione?" Ron asked.  Hermione smiled sheepishly.

     "I moved the other one upstairs," she said.  "It's in the upstairs hall."

     Harry groaned, thinking of the time he and Ginny spent moving everything to its exact location on Hermione's scaled diagram.

     "Those books were alphabetized," he said.  Hermoine nodded eagerly.

     "I noticed, thanks.  O through Z is now located in the upstairs hall," she explained.  "But I didn't touch the kitchen!" she said quickly, seeing Harry's disgruntled expression.

     "There wasn't much there except some pots and dishes anyway," he grumbled, slouching into an armchair.  He sat up straight, looking at the chair in surprise.

     "Where'd this come from?" he asked, looking at Ron and Hermione with wide eyes.

     "Dad dropped it off this morning," Ron said, taking a seat on the couch.  "Found it hidden somewhere."

     "Is it safe?" Harry asked warily, suspecting the chair came from a possible past raid.

     "I certainly hope so, I've sat in it twice already," Hermione said, joining Ron on the couch.

     "What about you and our little Miss Weasley?" Ron asked.  He threw an arm around Hermione carelessly.  She leaned against him, her feet tucked underneath her, pictures still clutched in one hand.

     "Things are pretty much the same," Harry said, glancing at the mantle clock.

     "She'll come around," Ron said confidently.  "Who knows what these Weasley women have up their sleeves."

     "Hey, that includes me now," Hermione said, elbowing him.  Ron grinned at her but said nothing.

     "I hope," Harry said, trying not to smile as he recalled the day with Ginny.  It seemed so simple…but suddenly everything was right with the world.  He snapped back to the present with Ron and Hermione, trying to keep his attention on the conversation.

~*~

     "They're nosy," Harry said, as he and Ginny took a walk around the neighborhood.  The end of August had arrived; Ron and Hermione had invited Harry over for dinner before he "left" for Hogwarts.  Harry had been assigned duty on the Express and had to arrive on Platform 9 ¾ tomorrow "just like old times."    

     Hermione and Ron hadn't finished fixing dinner yet, so they sent out Harry and Ginny for a while, intending to force the two together.  Harry's hands were stuffed into his pocket, and Ginny had her arms crossed across her torso as though shielding a bitter cold although it was a balmy August.  

     "That's not unusual," Ginny said, watching the pavement.  She kicked at a stone in the road.

     "Maybe not, but we're going to have to come up with something to tell them," Harry said.

     "As long as they think we're _not together they might keep doing things like this," Ginny said, looking up at Harry with a smile.  "Throwing us together 'unsuspectingly.'"_

     "That's appealing," Harry agreed.  "But I still don't understand why we're hiding, I guess."

     Ginny sighed.  They'd been over this at least once a day.  The topic was getting old.

     "_Because_," Ginny started, forcing herself to remain calm.  "My family would go bonkers and we'd never hear the end of it.  Is it so hard to believe I want you to myself?"  Ginny slipped an arm through his and looked up at him coyly.  Harry leaned down and kissed her nose.

     "Yes," he said.  "They'll figure it out eventually, you know."

     "I know.  But I like this.  Just us," Ginny said, cuddling against him.  Harry knew this was mostly for pressing her cause.

     "Fine, you win.  Today, anyway.  C'mon, dinner's probably ready."

     "No footsie under the table," Ginny warned him as they turned back for the house.  Harry looked crestfallen.

     "Well, that defeats the whole purpose of my staying."

     Dinner went suitably well.  Hermione and Ron were able to entertain them with new stories of Switzerland, and Harry and Ginny did their best to fill the two in on everything they missed at the Burrow.  Unfortunately, it wasn't much and so therefore the newlyweds did most of the talking.  Crookshanks curled around their ankles during the meal, begging piteously for food.  He had adapted to the house quite well and already enjoyed the suspicious armchair as his favorite spot.

     "I best get going," Ginny said, glancing at the clock.  They'd had dessert and were all now sitting around the fireplace chatting nonsensically.

     "Me, too," Harry said, standing and stretching.  "Got a train full of students tomorrow that need my discipline."

     "More like your help getting into trouble," Hermione scoffed.  Harry merely shrugged.

     "Same thing."

     Ginny waved over her shoulder as she stepped into the fireplace shouting "The Burrow!"

     Hermione and Ron looked at Harry expectantly.  He glanced at the fireplace.

     "It's such a dirty way to travel.  I'd rather Disapparate," he said.  And with a CRACK he was gone.

     "Wait a minute," Hermione said, frowning.  "You can't Apparate into Hogwarts!"

~*~

     "Harry, what are you doing here!" Ginny exclaimed, rather than inquired, as she rolled out of the fireplace.  She stood and began dusting off her robes.  Harry had appeared on the couch just after the fireplace coughed up Ginny.

     "I wanted to ask you if you were coming to the platform tomorrow," he asked casually, knowing the answer.

     "Harry, I _can't_, you know that," she whispered, giving him a mournful look.  "Why do you feel the need to bring this up every ten minutes?"

     "Why do you feel the need to keep a façade?" Harry countered casually.  He threw an arm across the back of the sofa, and the afghan growled protectively.  Ginny put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

     "What can't you drop this?" she said.

      "Why can't _you_?"

     "Stop!" she said, stamping her foot and reminding Harry of Hermione.

     "You've been hanging around Hermione too much," he said, standing and shaking his head.  Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed.  "Ah!  That's more Weasley-like."

     "Look, I don't want to get into a fight just before you leave," she said, stepping closer to him.  Glancing around and seeing no one home, she slipped her arms around his middle.

     "I don't either.  We wouldn't have to if you would just take my advice and give this up."

     "Likewise," Ginny said, looking up at Harry with a smile.  He kissed her softly.

     "All right.  Good-bye.  I'll see you in October?" he asked hopefully.

     "Probably," Ginny said.  "I'll owl you every day."

     "Every?" Harry asked, raising one eyebrow doubtfully.

     "Nearly," Ginny admitted and kissed him quickly.  "Better go."

     "Yeah," Harry said, giving her a final squeeze and making his exit.

     "HOGWARTS!" he shouted, giving Ginny a last wink before being engulfed by emerald flames.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Thanks for the reviews!!  YAY *happy dance* 


	32. Firsts

A/N: Reviews…umm OK there were a few that were somewhat confusing so uhh yeah…

Ranko-kun I am not sure what you are talking about; if you wish to email me examples of problem areas, I would love to look at them and fix them!  FF.net has also had problems sometimes and wouldn't pull up the whole page of text and instead cut out stuff…maybe that's the problem?

-not quite sure what the romances counter was about…

OK so that's about it. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Thirty-Two

     "I feel like I'm a first year again," Harry laughed.  "Only I've got more people seeing me off."

     Mrs. Weasley was in tears, as though she were sending her first child to his first day of school.  Mr. Weasley couldn't come but had given Harry his warm regards.  Ron and Hermione were standing at the platform, arm in arm and grinning broadly.  Even Fred and George were there, although Harry noticed the twins were doing some last-minute clearance sales for "school supplies."

     "Here, Harry, have a good year," Fred said, slipping Harry a few "Lip Stopper" sweets.  He and George had designed them so that the sweets were so sugary the lips were glued together.  Anyone tricked into eating one was virtually speechless for a half hour.  Harry looked at the mini treasures and grinned.

     "Thanks, I'll probably put these to good use," he said.  Mrs. Weasley burst into a fresh set of tears.

     "Our little Harry, a _professor_!" she wailed, pulling a hanky out of her handbag.  Ron rolled his eyes.

     "Mum, you're embarrassing him," whispered to his mother.  She ignored him and sniffled loudly.  Hermione stepped forward to give Harry a kiss on the cheek.

     "We'll come and visit you first Hogsmeade weekend," she affirmed.

     "Will you be able to tear yourself away?" Harry smiled, knowing Hermione would be neck-deep in her new office.

     "We'll be there," Ron said firmly, glancing at Hermione and giving her a look that clearly said "No argument."  Hermione blushed.

     "All right.  They probably need me to get into a car now," Harry said, glancing over his shoulder as he noticed that the platform was nearly devoid of students.  Mrs. Weasley pulled a large, round, paper-wrapped parcel out of her handbag.

     "Good Lord, Mum, how big IS that thing?" George said, staring wide-eyed at her handbag, which looked too small to fit such an object.

     "Bet that would sell pretty well," Fred muttered, grabbing the bag and looking it over for its sources of magic.  Mrs. Weasley slapped both of the boys away.

     "Here, Harry," she said, handing him the package and keeping a tight hand on her bag.  "For when you get homesick."  Her voice broke on the last word, and she broke into a fresh set of tears.

     "Why didn't she get this upset when we left home?" George asked Fred, motioning to their mother in bewilderment.

     "Because you're prats," Ron said confidently.  Hermione fought back a laugh.

     "He'll be fine, Mum," Hermione said, pulling gently at Mrs. Weasley.  "He has been to Hogwarts before."

     Mrs. Weasley nodded and allowed herself to be dragged away.  Suddenly, George and Fred launched themselves at Harry, clutching him from either side.

     "Don't GO, Harry!" Fred wailed dramatically.

     "I haven't fitted you for your Christmas jumper yet!" George wept.  Mrs. Weasley hit her sons with her handbag, which made them both spring away, rubbing the welts growing on their scalps.

     "We've _got_ to figure that one out," Fred said admiringly, looking at the handbag.

     "Bye, Harry," Ron laughed.  Hermione echoed him.  Harry hesitated, then nodded and started towards the train.  Just as he was about to board a car, he was bombarded from behind.

     "Hey!" Harry said, expecting to chastise a student.  Instead, he turned to face a very flushed Ginny Weasley, sitting on the ground from bumping into Harry.  He instinctively offered her his hand and she took it.

     "Sorry, Harry," she said, grinning sheepishly as Harry pulled her off the ground. "I—er—didn't stop in time.  But I guess you noticed."  He stepped down from the car, staring at her.

     "What are you doing here?" he asked in a low tone.  Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but then glanced to her left.  Harry followed her gaze to see the whole of Harry's farewell party still standing where Harry had left them.  They were now all grinning from ear to ear, however, and even Mrs. Weasley's tears had dried in her wide smile.

     "Let's go over here," Ginny said, pulling him back.  She led him around a pillar, out of prying eyes.  Harry watched her, his eyes hopeful and amused at her anxiety.

     "I came to see you off," she said, twisting the cuff of her sleeve.  She didn't look up to meet his eyes; her eyes remained glued to the Hogwarts crest emblazoned on his robes.

     "Your Mum would've waited for you at the Burrow if she knew you wanted to come," he said knowingly.  Ginny sighed and still didn't meet his eyes.

     "I know.  I just didn't…I didn't know I was coming."

     "That's hard to do," Harry teased. "Which one of you remembers to wash in the morning?"

     "_Harry_," Ginny said impatiently.  He wanted to lean down and kiss her and erase all that nervous energy. But it was more fun toying with her.  "I'm sorry."

     "For coming late?  That's all right.  I'll still make the train."

     "No, you git, for shrugging off…us," she said, almost taken aback by her own words.  Harry didn't respond.

     "I've been—horrid, is the word.  I don't care if you are starting a new job, or if you break up with me in two months," Ginny said quickly.  Harry wasn't sure where the last part had come from, but he was glad she'd made emotional progress.  She took in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.

     "I think we should tell people, you know…about us."  Harry grinned as her hands slid up his chest and around his neck and she said the last statement cautiously.  She pulled at him slightly and he obeyed and lowered his lips to meet hers.  It was just as much a rush as before—the sweet, unexpected longing still there.  Harry slid his arms around her waist, pulling her to him.  Ginny felt her body tremble with electricity.  She wanted to cry with the joy she was finding in his arms.  His tongue parted her lips as he deepened the passion of the kiss.  Ginny's reserve melted away and she returned his need.

     A sharp whistle broke their reverie.  Harry and Ginny's heads parted and they glanced up guiltily, but didn't relinquish their hold.  The Weasley party had taken a few steps forward where they could easily see the exchange from behind the pillar.  Fred had two fingers in his mouth and was whistling raucously.  Mrs. Weasley had a hanky pressed to her eyes again.  Hermione and Ron held hands, looking overjoyed.

     Ginny blushed and looked away, her face pressed against the linen of Harry's robes.  He grinned at the party, then turned his head to place a kiss on her temple.

     "Will you come to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione?" he whispered into her hair.  Ginny was still turned away from their family.

     "And miss a mug of world-class butterbeer?  Never," she said firmly, looking up at Harry with laughing eyes.  Before she could blush and protest against the Weasley's disorderly conduct, Harry kissed her again.  He knew he'd probably catch hell from the students who saw, but… who cared?

~*~

     Harry disliked the whole "grand entrance" his teachers had so often done to him.  But after leaning against his desk as he watched fifth years trickle in, he realized it was much more fun coming in late.  First years were next, and he thought he might as well have a bit of fun.

     The students were sitting in class; most of them remaining silent, as they were still terrified first-years.  Harry had taken a seat in the back of the class with his invisibility cloak, waiting for everyone to come in.  When the bell rang, he closed the door from his position in the back.  All the students jumped, staring at the door warily.  A few whispered to their neighbors, and others cast sidelong glances about the room.  Harry then had a piece of chalk drop from the tray attached to the blackboard.  All the students swiveled forward in their chairs, most craning to see the cause of the noise.  As they did so, Harry lifted the cloak and began striding to the front of the class.

     "If you will all remain facing forward, I believe we can begin," Harry said authoritatively.  Everyone's head snapped to the side to see him walking briskly toward his desk.

     "I'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Let me tell you a little bit about the class."  Harry came to the front and lifted a book from his desk.  He glanced at it, snapped it shut, then replaced it.

     "The dark arts are real.  You may think that because one of the greatest wars in wizardry is over, that the fable has ended.  You're very wrong.  There will always be those who misuse power of any kind.  Why?  Because they can," Harry said very solemnly.  He looked around the room at all of their faces. All of the children were taking in his words rapturously; some with faces of young courage, others with unmasked terror.

     "I think most of you have heard of a certain man whom I referred to a moment ago.  Voldemort was recently defeated for the last time, yes.  But he was not all that the dark arts encompassed.  Darkness lies in many people, not just one man; evil is used in more ways than just world domination.  This class is intended to teach you the difference between right magic and wrong.  It will teach you defenses, yes.  But offenses, too."  The courage previously written on a few faces had flickered somewhat as they all listened to Harry gravely.

     "Your parents may think you are too young for me to speak to you like this.  But I think you are our greatest hopes of all; and you should never underestimate the power of the learned," Harry said, a slight smile forming as he leaned against his desk.  A flicker of hope lit many children's eyes, and they all sat up a little straighter.

     "Now," he said, looking around at them.  "I know you have all—by now—heard of Voldemort.  I'm sure many of you were touched by him in a way you would much rather…forget."  Many heads nodded gravely; all the wizard-born children cringed as they did so.  

     "I'm afraid I will allow none of that particular cringing in my class," Harry said solemnly.  

     "Get used to that name.  Just Voldemort.  I will not tolerate 'the Dark Lord' or 'Lord Voldemort.'  He wasn't a lord of anything," Harry said coldly, standing up and pacing back and forth before them.  "He was simply a boy who thirsted for importance and thus rearranged his name to do so.  You will call him Voldemort, not to brag or seem brave, but because he was simply a man with a dangerous mind."

     The class was silent, as Harry's words sunk in.  At the sound of "Voldemort," many children still flinched; Harry supposed these were ones who had experienced Voldemort's wrath more closely than others.  He wouldn't be unsympathetic, but he would not tolerate any more wishy-washy fear of Tom Riddle aka Voldemort.  Harry stared at them quietly a few moments, returning to his desk.  He sat on it, crossed his arms and smiled at them.

     "I am Harry Potter.  And I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year."

     At this, many children began whispering, forming his name on their lips.  It became obvious that a few "thought he looked familiar" but couldn't place him.  He let them murmur a few moments amongst themselves before he stood from the desk again.

     "That been said, please get out a parchment and quill."  The students hurriedly dug into their bags, eager to follow his commands.  Harry came around the side of his desk, his robes flying.  "Please write a six-inch essay on 'How I Defeated the Dark Arts During the Summer.'"

     Students looked up at him, jaws hanging open, quills poised readily over the paper.  He noticed—with amusement—a few actually began writing.  Harry laughed.

     "No, just kidding.  I'm going to put some points up on the board, and we'll discuss them."  A sigh of relief echoed through the room, and the students put down their quills gratefully.  Harry turned to the board, picked up the piece of chalk he had previously "dropped," and began writing a few bullets.  He grinned to no one in particular.  He was going to have fun this year.

~*~

     As the first years filed out of the class, one girl lagged behind, stuffing her books into her bag slowly.

     "Professor?" she asked, hoisting her bag over her shoulder.  She stood in front of Harry's desk, nervously playing with a strap from her bag.

     "Yes—Heidi, isn't it?" he asked, trying to remember her name.  He recalled a comment Hermione had made about Switzerland and smiled.  "What can I do for you?"

     "I was just wondering, about that essay.  You _were _joking, weren't you?" she asked worriedly.  Her light brown hair was pulled back with a blue stretch headband.  She looked every inch a child of eleven, with her round face and innocent blue eyes.  Harry grinned.

     "Yes, I was.  Nasty teacher's joke, I'm afraid," he said, winking.  She still looked worried.

     "I could do it, if you wanted," she said, clearly not believing him.  Harry couldn't mask his surprise.  This girl would turn out to be another Hermione.

     "No, really, Heidi.  It's my policy not to give after-hours work the first day.  No essay.  Just a joke," he said quickly.  Good grief, if she took everything he said seriously, he was going to have problems!

     "All right.  See you, Professor," the girl said tentatively as she exited.  Her Mary Jane shoes squeaked on the floor.  He shook his head with a smile.  Cute kid, but much too serious for her age.

~*~

     Harry had to admit, when it was all said and done, he had enjoyed the day.  He sat in the empty classroom at the end of the day, looking around him in awe.  A knock on the door startled him and Harry ran a hand through his hair subconsciously.

     "Well, Potter, I see you've managed to survive," Snape said, icily sweeping into the room before Harry had welcomed him.

     "I hope you didn't lose a bet," Harry said, standing with a smile.

     "Not much.  I wouldn't risk much money on you," Snape returned, a smirk curling the edges of his mouth.  He glanced around the classroom approvingly.  "You put a lot of thought into this."

     "Thank you," Harry said, taken aback by the compliment.  He was proud of his room, but of course couldn't say so much.  Copies of different reference materials hung on the walls.  Harry had even thrown some Quiddich memorabilia up on the walls.

     "I suppose you've already requested Head of Gryffindor house," Snape said, turning back to Harry with his usual sneer.  Harry wasn't sure if the Potions Master was teasing or not.

     "Of course not," Harry said.  "I'll only be here a year, remember?"

     This bit of humor pleased Snape and Harry could see his colleague fight off a smile.

     "See you in the Hall, then," Snape said, turning abruptly and flinging the door open.

     "See you, Severus," Harry said, knowing the use of Snape's first name was bound to get the man's hair to stand on end.  Harry was rewarded for his "effort;" Snape paused a moment in the door, turned and gave his traditional sneer, then exited again in a billow of robes.  Harry chuckled to himself.  Even if they had come to some kind of silent understanding, it didn't mean it wasn't still fun to get Snape's hackles raised now and again.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Wow, I can't believe I'm getting plugs outside of FF.net *wriggles in chair excitedly* *squeaks*I love you, man!  Cough I mean, uh thanks dude.


	33. Trouble in Different Forms

Author's Warning: This is a long chapter! Give yourself time to read! Oh yeah and if the 1st kiss didn't earn the PG-13 this will, in what I think is a non-smutty way…Onward!

Chapter Thirty-Three

During the first month the students had treated Harry cautiously, probably unsure how to treat the wizard whom they had known since early childhood but never before seen. It didn't take long for them to acclimate to his position. Students, mostly older, had no qualms with showing up late to class or making him a target of practical jokes. Most of the jokers were amateurs, however, and after spending years around Fred and George, Harry was able to easily spot the set-ups before becoming a victim.

The rabble-rousers wasted no time in pushing the patience of their teachers. By the middle of October, he'd identified those that would be the legacy-makers or the "new Fred and George," as he mentally referred to them. It was actually a trio of fourth years out of Gryffindor, two boys and one girl. The girl often had very little to do with the actual activity of the traps, but Harry suspected she was likely the mastermind behind many. Karyn Mitchell's blue eyes sparkled mischievously most of the time, and she always had a laugh ready. Harry had the feeling that she was rarely concentrating on anything other than her gang's next big pull. The boys were cousins: Garry Levins and Trist Carroll. Trist and Garry carried very little resemblance, however; in fact, Karyn and Trist were usually mistaken for siblings. Both had clean blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes to accompany thin builds and fair complexions. Trist, however, had eyes of cerulean compared to Karyn's crystal blues.  The biggest difference remained in their respective smiles.  Trist's smile was crooked looked more malicious than Karyn's happy-go-lucky grin that was ever present. Garry was slightly shorter than Trist and made of a sterner build. His brown-eyed face was nothing but gentle and his fawn-brown hair gave him a very clean cut. But, guilty by association, Harry knew he too had more up his sleeve than another arm.

Around mid-October Harry came around a corner, headed for the Great Hall. The particular hall he was on was commonly trafficked by those heading to McGonagall's. It was also a shortcut from the Defense room to the dining area that Harry often took for dinner due to unusual low traffic during that time. As he came around the corner, he nearly ran into Trist and Garry crouched on the floor. Karyn was leaning against the opposite wall, her eyes laughing at Harry. The two boys heard Harry and stood quickly.

"Hi, Professor," Garry said, flashing his innocent smile.

"Hi, Garry. Trist. Karyn," Harry said, nodding to each. "Why aren't you in the hall? You'll be late."

"Oh, Trist dropped something," Garry said lightly. "We were trying to help him find it. Go ahead, just…watch your step," he said, cocking his head to one side. Harry glanced at Karyn, but the mirth on her face hadn't changed. Trist's smile had appeared, closer to a smirk as always.

"Is that it?" Harry asked, pointing down to the gargoyle at the end of the hall. "At the base of the gargoyle. I see something."

"I doubt it; it couldn't have gone that far, Professor," Trist said, his grin still present. But Garry's own innocent smile had flickered at Harry's words.

"You better go check," Harry said to Trist, and motioned toward the gargoyle. He met the boy's gaze, trying not to smirk himself. Trist glanced down the hall, then at Garry.

"Better go, Trist," Garry shrugged and Harry noticed a tone of defeat. This seemed to please Karyn even more, and she crossed her arms, as her grin radiated from ear to ear. Trist closed his eyes and took a breath.

"Right," he said determinedly, and turned on his heel. He strode across the hall toward the gargoyle. As he did so, small explosions erupted at his feet increasing the further he walked. Rancid smoke began to fill the hall. Trist picked up his pace, until when he finally reached the gargoyle, where he rolled.  The explosions ceased, but the smoke still lingered. Trist stood, brushing off his robes. He glanced at the base of the statue for the nonexistent item Harry hadn't seen.

"Nope, not it." Karyn had a hand over her mouth now, trying to keep from doubling over with laughter. Even Garry was grinning. He held up a small item that Harry recognized as a modified dung-bomb. It was small and flat and looked more like a land mine. Harry took it gingerly from Garry.

"You do this?" he asked, looking the bomb over. Garry nodded and thumbed toward Trist at the opposite end of the hall. The smoke was beginning to clear and Harry could just make out the form of the other student.

"And Trist," Garry said, still grinning.  Trist was looking at the ground warily, trying to find the best way back to his friends.

"Very nice," Harry said, impressed. "_Discerndius_." He pointed his wand at the hall and quickly the hall was filled with small land-mine dung-bombs, most smoking from Trist's stroll. A few along the edges of the hall hadn't been activated, and Trist quickly scooped these into his arms. Harry held out his hand when the boy reached his side of the hall once again, and Trist reluctantly handed over the store.

"Invisibility charm?" Harry asked, still glancing at the item in his hand.

This time, Karyn nodded. Harry had no doubt it was she who had done the research in that particular division.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for getting caught," Harry said nonchalantly, looking over the bombs. "Nice try," Harry said, tossing one dung-bomb towards the boys. Trist held his breath as Garry caught it lightly. The boys looked at Harry with newfound respect, and even Karyn's grin became more thoughtful. Harry picked his way carefully through the smoldering mess of the land mines.

"Clean this up," he said, over his shoulder. The boys jumped on the task immediately, and even Karyn pushed herself off the wall to accompany them. Harry paused at the doors to the Great Hall and glanced over his shoulder at the trio cleaning up the mess before another teacher provided a more severe punishment. He had very little trouble since then.

~*~

The first Hogsmeade weekend in October Harry had been assigned duty down in the town. He thought it was rather unfair to be assigned two chaperone duties one month into his first year. But he obliged, naturally, and watched as the students raced around the town, purchasing sweets and finding hidden corners to snog. 

     The unfortunate luck had put Harry in a sour mood, however.  He had been rather hard on many students, doling out his first detention that Friday to a Gryffindor first year, Kelly O'Neal, a likeable boy he found hard not to favor. Harry had snapped and given the boy a detention for disturbing the class when his knapsack toppled onto the floor, sending papers gliding through the air. Harry turned away when he saw the shocked look on the Kelly's face and the hurt in his young eyes. He made up for it that night but taking Kelly down to Hagrid's under the guise of cleaning cages. Kelly had an impromtu lesson in Chuffles and seemed to have forgiven Harry by the time they returned to the castle. 

     But even the boy's rebounded admiration couldn't shake Harry's low spirits in Hogsmeade. The gang had all been understanding, there wasn't much they could do, after all. But Harry read the disappointment in Ginny's response. After that weekend, it was all Harry could do to count down the days to the next weekend, in early December.

December managed to drag itself into view. Harry struggled through November, desperately trying not to keep track of the days. He immersed himself in the schoolwork, eager to take his mind off of the upcoming weekend.  Unfortunately, this carried over to the fifth years, who were "blessed" with a writing assignment. Harry had hoped that the essays would keep him busy enough that he wouldn't stare at the clock. The writings in fact did keep him occupied, and Harry soon regretted his deed.  They kept him busy right up to Friday night, the day before the anticipated Hogsmeade weekend.

Harry leaned back on his couch, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Grading these essays was the worst thing he'd ever done, next to actually assigning them. Most of these students couldn't spell, and it took him anywhere from fifteen minutes to a half-hour to decipher a paragraph. Nearly all had done half-assed work, anyway. He glanced at the papers with a slight smile. Not unlike other students he used to know… Harry shook his head nostalgically, and rearranged himself more comfortably on the couch. He leaned against the arm of the sofa, his legs stretched along the length of the cushions.

A knock resounded on the door, giving Harry a welcome break. He glanced up at the door from the parchment in his hands.

"Fawkes!" he said, shouting the password. The door opened obligingly. Ginny stood in the door, looking slightly uncomfortable. She glanced around the hall before ducking into the room. The door clicked behind her. Harry stood quickly, glad to see her.

"How'd you get in?" he asked in confusion. Ginny grinned and held up a bag of Bertie Bott's. He laughed. "I forgot."

"Aren't you going to ask me to sit down?" Ginny asked indignantly, lowering the bag. Harry stepped over to her hastily, and took her in his arms. He gave her an insistent kiss that quickly melted her teasing.

"After I take care of business," he said, pulling away and observing her with a smile. He was slightly flattered to see that he'd left her breathless. Ginny smiled and pulled him down to her.

"Good to see you, too," she said, as they pulled away again. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She hoped he didn't think it was because of those stunning kisses—he might get entirely too bigheaded. They pulled away, still grinning at each other. Harry gave her a tug toward the couch.

"Come on, I need a break. I was grading essays. Most of these kids were too busy with Hogsmeade around the corner to bother giving proper attention to their work," Harry said, stacking the parchments and placing them underneath the coffee table that had often served as his dorm-desk. Ginny glanced at them appraisingly.

"I could help. I do have editing experience," she said, reaching for a paper. Harry grabbed her hand, and drew her back against the couch.

"No shop talk," he reproved her. "We have more important things to do," he said, lifting her chin and kissing her again.

"Snogging is definitely a priority," Ginny confirmed, snuggling against him. She could feel Harry's heartbeat under her fingers on his chest. It was nearly as wild as her own. Harry answered with another kiss, this one soft and sultry. Ginny closed her eyes and melted against him, her arms around his neck and hands teasing the hair at the nape of his neck. He leaned against her, the two now settled comfortably in the corner of the sofa with Ginny's head propped on the arm.

"You're going to get me in trouble," he said thickly, tracing her face with a finger. Ginny kissed his palm and met his adoring gaze. They lay together on the couch for some time, relishing the other's presence.

"So I guess this means you're my boyfriend," Ginny finally said after Harry kissed her nose.

"Suppose so," he said, kissing her temple.

"Then I'm your girlfriend," she said redundantly. Harry paused.

"That would mean that hot barmaid in Hogsmeade couldn't spend the night anymore, wouldn't it?" he said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, it might," Ginny responded, shoving him slightly.

"Okay," Harry said, after a moment of thinking it over. "I guess I could sacrifice." He returned to adoring Ginny with kisses.

"You're early. Ron and Hermione don't get here until tomorrow," Harry said, pausing for a moment. Ginny's hands crept up around his neck again.

"I wanted you to myself," she said. She met his lips with a sultry kiss, pulling at his bottom lip as she pulled away.

"Signature style?" Harry said with a laugh after they parted. Ginny smiled slyly.

"Not necessarily," she said. Ginny gave him another kiss and Harry felt his defenses breaking. Alone in this room with a fire crackling behind them provided Harry with an atmosphere not easily resisted.

"If you have a room to go back to, you'd better do it now," he groaned. "Or you're going to be in trouble."

Ginny smiled and rolled off the couch. She stood, and held out her hand. Harry glanced at the proffered hand, then sat up and took it. She gave him a tug and started leading him to his bedroom.

"_This_ is my room," she said, pushing the door open. Harry hesitated. Things were getting awfully fast…he hated to think of what Ron would say if he found out…

"You sure about this?" he said softly, looking into her eyes. The light in the hall was dim; the only source of light was the moonlight streaming through the window. It provided a blue, dusky aspect to the room. There was just enough that fell on one side of Ginny's face, illuminating her bright eyes. Harry could see the passion growing there, likely mirroring his own.

Sensing his hesitancy out of concern for her, Ginny stood up on tiptoe and gave him another lingering kiss, flicking her tongue teasingly. Harry gathered her in his arms and held her, his heart throbbing. He had very few people in this world he had been able to love, and Ginny was going to remain one.

"I'll never hurt you," he whispered in her ear.

This unexpected sentimentality shocked Ginny. She reached up, cradling his face and kissed him, tasting the saltiness of her own tears.

"I know," she said, as Harry stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him.

~*~

The room was dark when Ginny next awoke. She stretched lazily, relishing the warmth of the man beside her. Even if her mother did love Harry, Mrs. Weasley would probably have a fit if she knew…well…Ginny smiled mischievously and slid out of bed. She wasn't sleepy anymore, and didn't want to wake up Harry. She threw a robe around her and crept down to the common room. The girls in the painting were having a tea party and waved at Ginny. She smiled and waved back. They were too innocent to possibly suspect anything about two adults alone late at night. Ginny glanced at the painting again. What were those kids doing up at this time of night anyway?

Ginny curled up on the couch, watching the fire. If someone had told her a year ago that she'd be spending the night in Harry Potter's dorm…well…Ginny smiled, hugging a pillow. She had never felt like this with any other boyfriend—or anyone else, period. No one made her feel so complete and _loved_ as Harry did. He could barely take his eyes off her, much less his hands. Ginny smiled, knowing that the newness of it would all eventually wear off; but she knew she would enjoy it while it lasted. She heard Harry's footsteps on the stairs. He entered the common room, as disheveled as she left him; he had managed enough thought to throw on his pajama bottoms.

"Why are you wearing pants? I've just seen you in less," Ginny said suggestively. Harry rubbed his eyes and placed his glasses on his nose. He looked at her with a slow grin.

"I could ask you the same thing. In fact, yeah," he said, striding over to the couch. Ginny squealed and clutched the pillow tighter as he reached for her, a mischievous grin in his green eyes.

"I'm cold, I want my robe back," he whined, a mock pout forming. Ginny laughed as he tugged at the pillow.

"No way, you should think to keep one for your guests!" Ginny said, clutching her defense tighter. Harry clambered on top of her and managed to get his hands underneath the pillow. He then began trying to tug at the belt.

"How many people do you think spend the night here?" he asked, in disbelief, throwing off the pillow completely. Ginny clutched the robe with both hands and gave him a warning look. Harry returned her look with a piteous one of his own. It was an odd sight, to be sure, his knees on either side of her hips, and him looking at her like a lost puppy. Ginny sighed, but smiled.

"C'mere," she said, motioning. Harry gave her a confused look, and he lay down, propping himself on his forearms.

"I won't have you sitting up there, goggling," she muttered, untying her robe. Harry put his arms around her as she opened the robe and folded it over the both of them. Harry grinned as he kissed her.

"See? Now you know why I keep just the one," he said, waggling his eyebrows. Ginny laughed. She glanced over at the painting, the girls still having their tea party. Harry followed her glance.

"Don't move," he said, getting up and pulling a blanket out from an armoire on the opposite side of the room.

"Good night, ladies," he said, as he covered the painting with a grin. He turned back to Ginny, laying his glasses on the table.

"Now, where were we?" he asked, Ginny fighting the smile that always seemed to be on her mouth when Harry was about. He grinned and returned to his former position.

"Ah yes, right about here," he said, leaning down to kiss her neck.

~*~

Harry woke up on the couch. They hadn't bothered to return to the bedroom. Harry didn't move a muscle as he woke, relishing the curve of their bodies and how well they seemed to flow together. The freshness of their relationship kept him on cloud nine; everything was new and worth time exploring. He closed his eyes again, focusing on the way her skin felt under his fingers. She had fallen asleep after, cuddled into his arms, her back to his chest and she facing the couch. His arms were wrapped around hers, and he rubbed his hands lightly over her soft skin. He found her fascinating. There was nothing he didn't want to know about her, nothing he didn't want to explore. He just wished it hadn't taken him so long to figure this out. But then, they were still young, as she kindly—and often—reminded him. Harry smiled, thinking on that. He wanted to love her with this desperate passion while he still had the energy to do so. He propped himself up on his elbow slightly, his eyes drinking in her face and how she looked as she slept. He had spread the robe over the two of them when they had burrowed down to sleep. It wasn't enough to cover them both completely, and Harry could see her smooth legs tangled between his where the robe ended.

He glanced at the clock in the cubbyhole of the armoire: 9:10. With a groan, he kissed Ginny's cheek gently, and slipped off the couch. He'd better get ready for Hermione and Ron to get here soon. Harry glanced at the sleeping Ginny and knew that would not go over well with Ron, even if Ron approved the whole relationship in the first place. He slipped back into his pajamas, shivering slightly without a shirt. He grabbed his glasses off the table and replaced them on his nose. Harry poked at the logs in the fireplace, which were smoldering. He placed several fresh logs and stoked the fire again. Ginny stirred and rolled over, her eyes foggy.

"Good morning," Harry said, turning around to look at her. Ginny smiled slowly, still waking.

"Morning," she mumbled, stretching her arms over her head. Harry returned to the couch, sitting beside her still form.

"Sleep well?" he asked, his eyes alight.

"Who cares about the sleep?" Ginny said softly. Harry grinned and kissed her good-morning. It felt so perfect, having her beside him when he woke. He wanted her to be the first thing he saw everyday. A knock on the door interrupted their tender moment. Harry shut his eyes and groaned.

"They're early," he muttered. Ginny sat up, suddenly very awake.

"Ron?" she asked, clutching the robe. Harry nodded. He stood so that she could slide off the couch. Ginny hastily slipped on the robe, keeping one eye on the door.

"You spent the night out here," she hissed, pulling the blanket down from the painting. She grabbed the pillow from where they had left it on the floor last night. She handed Harry both items, who obliged and arranged them on the couch. She dashed up the stairs and into the bedroom, closing the door silently behind her. Harry glanced over his shoulder before opening the door, making sure all incriminating evidence was out of sight. Ron and Hermione knocked again.

"Hey, guys," Harry said, yawning. "C'mon in." They obliged, stepping inside hand-in-hand.

"You didn't change much," Hermione said, glancing around the room. Harry put a finger to his lips.

"Keep it down, Ginny's asleep," he said, pointing to the bedroom. He saw Ron's face flush. Hermione looked a little shocked as well.

"What?" Ron said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. Harry may be his best friend, and he may like the idea of their dating, but that didn't necessarily mean he approved of Harry shagging Ginny any old time…

"Came in last night. She was confused, thought you guys would be here, too," Harry lied quickly. He cringed inwardly, hating that he had to lie so miserably.

"She went ahead and spent the night. I slept on the couch," Harry said, motioning to the makeshift bed over his shoulder. He could see Ron relax somewhat. Hermione, however, had kept her eyes on Harry during the whole of his speech. She clearly did not believe him. A slight smile was playing on her lips and Harry gave her a pleading look.

"Huh," Ron grunted, looking at the couch. Preferring to believe Harry's story, even if he didn't believe it, Ron let go of the issue.

"Well, sorry we're a bit early," Hermione said, ending the topic. "We just wanted to get up here as soon as possible. Thought we could see Dumbledore and McGonagall maybe."

"I'm sure you could," Harry said. "They'll be at breakfast, and, of course, you're more than welcome. In fact, if we go down now, we might be able to catch them finishing."

"Care to join us?" Ron asked warily. Harry grinned.

"Sure, why don't I just get some clothes? Oh, wait," he said, realizing they were in the bedroom. Hermione quickly took the hint.

"I'll get you something, Harry," she said, exiting the room.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, as Hermione slipped through the open doorway and turned the corner up the stairs.

"How're things?" Ron asked. He saw the stack of papers under the coffee table. "Work?"

"Pretty good, I guess," Harry said, running a hand through his unruly hair. "Kids seem to be doing all right. First years are cute as hell; they take anything I say as law. Seventh years are cool, too. I guess because we're so close in age. They're pretty funny. And the third years…I generally look forward to that class the most, but you didn't hear that from me."

"But you're their teacher, right?" Ron said, reminding Harry of his past advice. Harry laughed.

"Of course. I remind them of that every now and then with a quiz."

"Finally broke down and sprang one on them, eh?" Ron said, grinning.

~*~

"Hermione!" Ginny gasped, as her friend came through the door. Hermione put a finger to her lips and smiled. Ginny was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully clothed. She had brought an extra set of clothes, just in case. She'd shrunk them down and cleverly hid them in the Bertie Bott's bag to avoid her mother's inquisitive stares.

"Ron doesn't know. Well, I think he suspects something, but he'd rather believe what Harry told him," Hermione said quietly, moving over to Harry's closet. She opened the doors and began pulling out some clothes. She turned around with a grin. "So what made you come over so early?"

Ginny blushed but merely shook her head. Hermione laughed.

"All right. We're going down to breakfast. Meet us down there in about fifteen minutes, saying I left a note by the bed telling you." Hermione folded some clothes over her arm and winked at Ginny as she put a hand on the doorknob. Ginny bit her lip.

"Hermione?" she said, as Hermione began to open the door. Hermione turned around to see Ginny still sitting on the bed, looking hesitant.

"Yeah?" Hermione asked with one eyebrow raised.

"Did you and Ron…you know…before…you know…" Ginny stumbled over the words. Hermione blushed as she closed the door and joined Ginny on the bed.

"Well, no," she admitted. "We'd been dating for a long time, but well…I guess it never seemed right. We're just a little slower moving than you two," Hermione said with a smile. Ginny blushed.

"I didn't mean you're a slag or anything," Hermione said quickly.

"There were times…" she said thoughtfully continuing. "But…we just…never did. We're just slower."

"Oh," Ginny said, glancing down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She had never gone very far with any of her boyfriends, as most of them had all been like Antius, and thus, the relationship was pretty empty.

"Was Harry—" Hermione started, and then paused. She wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to say. "I mean, did you…"

"No," Ginny said. Hermione looked taken aback. "Or yes?" Ginny said, not completely sure what Hermione had asked. She took a deep breath.

"Harry was the first," she said quietly, picking at her fingernails. Hermione placed an arm around Ginny's shoulders and gave the girl a squeeze.

"And he'll be the last, too," Hermione said confidently. Ginny blushed again.

"Does everyone feel this…complete?" she asked quietly and somewhat dreamily.

"I don't know; but if not, we're awful lucky," Hermione said seriously, her arm still around Ginny's shoulders. She gave Ginny another side-hug and stood.

"How was it?" Hermione asked with a grin.

"How is yours?" Ginny asked, causing Hermione to blush and laugh.

"Fair enough," she said, walking over to the door again.

"Hermione?" Ginny said, suppressing a grin. Hermione paused, her hand on the doorknob.

"Yeah?" Hermione asked, getting a feeling of deja vu.

"Fantastic," Ginny said, her eyes dancing. Hermione laughed again.

"Likewise," she said coyly, slipping out the door.

~*~

Hermione returned to the common room, Harry's clothes carefully folded over her arm. She tossed them at his head. Harry caught the slacks but was cloaked by the jumper that he missed. He pulled it off his head and glared at it.

"You had to pick this, didn't you?" Harry said, holding up his least favorite cardigan. It was a Christmas gift from Lupin of two years ago; unfortunately, Lupin's lack of fashion sense didn't stop him from making gifts of clothing. It was a muddy amber color with large chartreuse diamonds circling the mid-to-upper torso, with the cuffs trimmed in gold and beige triangular pattern. The collar mirrored the cuffs.

"Hey, maybe you should learn to dress yourself; you're a big boy," Hermione said condescendingly. Harry started toward the room. Ron's hand shot out and grabbed his friend's arm.

"Sorry, mate. You may be my best mate, but I'm afraid that won't stop me from killing you," he said with a slight tease to his tone. Harry looked at his friend, then glanced down at Ron's hand. Ron's grip tightened.

"I meant, it's my favorite!" Harry said, changing his tone to one of forced amiability. He grabbed Hermione and hugged her. "See?" Ron smirked.

"If it's not my sister, it's my wife. Geroff, you bloody prat." Harry laughed and released Hermione.

"Guess I can't win. I'll be right out," Harry said, nodding toward the door. Ron and Hermione took the hint, and exited the room, Ron's hand protectively on the small of Hermione's back. Harry hurriedly pulled on the pair of fresh slacks and grimaced as he pulled the jumper over his head. Hermione must not have taken a good look at the thing.

Ginny crept down the stairs, peeking her head around the doorjamb. Harry saw her and he smiled. He took a step towards her, but Ginny shook her head. She instead blew him a kiss, then disappeared back up the stairs. God, he was lucky.

"Better hurry," Harry said, glancing at his watch as they exited the teacher's hall. He paused, and put a finger to his lips as he motioned for Ron and Hermione to stop. He stepped forward quietly and rapped twice on a tile in the floor. Ahead of them, a suit of armor creaked open to reveal two students inside, snogging quite contentedly. They gasped as the back of the suit swung open and froze when they saw Harry.

"P-P-Professor," the boy stammered, grabbing the girl's hand as they stepped out of the armor. "W-w-we were just—"

They were sixth years and terribly embarrassed. Underneath their scarlet blushes, Harry recognized them both as Hufflepuffs.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff for getting caught," he said, smirking. The girl's ears were practically purple with shame and she streaked away from the spot. The boy's jaw dropped as he heard Harry's verdict, then he closed his mouth and returned Harry's smirk. He nodded to Harry, and then ran off in the same direction as his girl.

"You really ought to crack down on that, instead of condoning it," Hermione said beside Ron. Harry shrugged and glanced at Ron. They grinned at each other and didn't respond to Hermoine's advice.

~*~

"Ginny Weasley! How good to see you!" Professor McGonagall saw Ginny first, and motioned her up to the head table where Ron, Hermione, and Harry were already in conversation with Dumbledore and their former Head of House.

"Good morning, Professor," she said. She caught Harry's eye and fought off a blush. Why did he have to look at her like that?

"I've heard good things from Yvonne, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, looking at Ginny appraisingly. His eyes sparkled, and he glanced at Harry before meeting Ginny's eyes again. There was no doubt about it—he knew. There wasn't a single thing that happened in Hogwarts that he didn't know about, apparently. Or did she just feel that guilty? Ginny caught Harry's grin and fought off one of her own. No, Dumbledore just knew.

"I'm pleased to hear that. I don't always," Ginny said, taking a seat beside Harry. Ron and Hermione were sitting on Dumbledore's left, with McGonagall, Harry, and an empty seat to his right.

"It's not always prudent to constantly compliment," Dumbledore said wisely.

"We were just telling Ron and Hermione how much we enjoyed their wedding," McGonagall said, switching topics.

"Lovely," Dumbledore agreed. "I especially liked the crab cakes. Interesting," he said, wistfully recalling the dinner.

"It was fantastic, wasn't it?" Ginny added. "Switzerland, too, right?"

"They don't want to hear about that," Ron said, smiling though his tone said the topic was clearly off-limits. Hermione looked away, a smile playing on her features.

"How is Harry doing?" Ginny asked, directing the question to her two former professors.

"I'm afraid he's become quite a brown-nose. Barely two months into the year and he'd already bought me a pair of socks," Dumbledore said. "I'm not so easily bought, Potter."

Harry laughed. "I thought it was worth a try."

"And the team has made wonderful headway," McGonagall said proudly. Harry's three friends looked at him in curiosity.

"The Gryffindor captain, Maria Johnson, talked me into helping train," he said weakly. "I meet with the team every Saturday morning, and sometimes I come out and advise during the weekday practices."

"Johnson?" Ron asked. "Any relation?"

"Yeah, Angelina's younger sister. The team's quite young this year; Maria's just a fifth year herself. She's the oldest one, though, with the most experience; they have one seventh year but he only just joined. The others are all third and fourth years. Maria was at her wit's end at the beginning of the year when she saw how young everyone was. She came to me. I'm afraid I'm a bit of a sucker for a pair of big brown eyes."

Harry glanced over at Ginny, who didn't meet his gaze.

"In the next year they'll be unstoppable," McGonagall said proudly.

"Aren't the others upset? I thought that the captains usually did all of their own training," Hermione said with concern.

"I think the Slytherin team had a few words to say. But there's nothing they can do. Marianna asked me; if others asked, I'd help them too," Harry said, shrugging and leaning back in his chair. He glanced out at the Great Hall, which was nearly devoid of students.

"Who's on duty this week?" he asked.

"Snape and Lawrence," McGonagall answered, referring to the Potions Master and the Arithmancy Professor. "You four thinking of heading down?"

"It had crossed my mind," Harry said with a smile. He stood, and his friends did the same.

"We'll see you," he said, nodding to Dumbledore, and then McGonagall. They trailed out the door, laughing and reminding a few nearby teachers of a younger time.

"What is it, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked, turning to the headmaster. He was watching the departure of the four friends with a distant gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, nothing, I suppose, Minerva. They do grow up quickly, don't they?" he said, sounding like a wistful father. McGonagall smiled to herself and followed Dumbledore's gaze. Ron and Hermione were hand-in-hand, and Harry and Ginny walked close enough for their arms to brush against one another. But the camaraderie of the group was reminiscent of a past era.

"Yes, Albus. I suppose they do."

"Tell me, Minerva," Dumbledore said, his wistful attitude now departed. "How come you never buy me socks?"

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Ah 3 points:

1.OK I know I will probably catch flak for having the pranksters a trio out of Gryffindor, but it was the only thing that seemed right. If it was Slytherin, they would be malicious pranksters and I think we know that it would never happen in Ravenclaw and likely not Hufflepuff either. Two was exactly like Fred and George, 4 would be too many (and then I'd get crap for the Marauders), and 3 was right. All boys would be too stale, all girls unlikely, and two girls and a guy just not adequate. So there you are. It flew from underneath my fingers and then I reread it and said People are going to think I'm being completely unoriginal, but oh well. I swear I didn't want to. By the way, Trist is short for Tristan, but I found that hard and unnecessary to work in the story. Thought I'd share anyway! : D

2."Slag" is "British informal" for "Harlot" according to my handy-dandy thesaurus. There was also slapper and scrubber, but I went w/ the four-letters *shock*

3.Hope this wasn't too scandalous (*gasp*) for anyone! But…Hermione and Ron I definitely see as a little more old-fashioned and Harry and Ginny perhaps not so much… It doesn't matter because the Muse is using me and not you, so there! :)


	34. Quiddich and Christmas

A/N--Hee hee…I started writing this and then realized that I would have to insert this somewhere between ch. 33 and 34! whoops

Chapter Thirty-Five

     "NO, Maria, NO!" Harry shouted from his spot on the ground.  Just as he had predicted, the Quaffle sailed through the hoop behind the keeper.  Maria set her mouth and chased after it.  Harry took his broom and sailed up to meet her.

     "What made you think that would work?" he asked sharply as she returned to the post with the Quaffle tucked under her arm.

     "Read it," she said honestly, knowing what was coming.  Harry swore under his breath.

     "You have to be able to move while you do so or it's worthless," Harry told her bluntly.  The "Starfish and Stick" had never been a move he approved.  It was risky and ridiculous.  He'd never seen it work, much less seen it used often.

     "It's not worth putting into whatever you read," Harry said sharply.  The chasers had flown in and were now waiting for instructions.  Dax, or Degan as he was formally known to most his professors, was the third year that had put that particular shot in the goal.  His black hair was always carefully parted and combed, except for Quiddich practice.  Then it was always in wild disarray and allowed his brown eyes to be more prevalent.  Felita Connolly was hovering beside him, a look of concern as she listened to Harry's sharp tone.  A fourth year, she was their lead scorer and the swiftest on the team next to their Seeker, Karyn Mitchell.  Her short brown hair was also wind-blown and the frosted tips playfully offset the gravity on her solemn face.  Grayson Miller, another fourth year was hovering beside her.  His dusky brown hair fell into his eyes.  Harry wondered how everyone else's hair managed to get blown back during games and practices, but such activities only seemed to make Grayson's hair fall further forward, covering his opalescent blue eyes.  He was known as the team heartthrob and was responsible for scores of fans from other houses.

     "Sorry," Maria muttered, tossing Harry the Quaffle.  He caught it and tossed it over his shoulder.  Grayson and Felita dove for it, racing each other down the field.

     "You'll be the one who's sorry when Ravenclaw scores.  Don't do it again," Harry said, pulling back off the field.  "Again!" he shouted to the other players.  The chasers resumed their positions.  They were trying to tackle a new formation and Harry had his hands full with that let alone a Keeper trying fancy moves.  His coaching had earned a greater role.  As busy as he was, he promised Maria to now attend at least two weekly practices in addition to the established Saturday mornings.  She had slowly sought his opinion more until he was doing a large part of the directing.  Her leadership wasn't undermined, but she appreciated that she could now refine her own techniques to help the team's defenses.

     Felita and Grayson swooped upward toward the other players.  Trist and Will Casely, the newest player and only seventh year, were beating the Bludgers back and forth.  Karyn was oblivious to them all as she swooped over the field looking for the released Snitch.  Felita had the ball under her arm as she stationed herself ahead of Grayson and Dax.  The two boys were swift but big enough to be intimidating.  Harry had wished for more girls in offensive positions, for he felt that they had an advantage in the speed division.  He would have preferred to switch out Maria with one of the boys on offense but she was the only good Keeper on the team.  Dax was large enough to be intimidating but his reflexes were nowhere near as cat-like as Maria's.  Dax, Grayson and Maria were all worked the hardest as Harry tried to bring out the optimum traits each could bring to his or her position.

     "What are you waiting for?" Harry said, as Felita glanced back toward Dax.  The trio wisely ignored Harry and glanced at each other before setting off.  Felita had the ball clutched under her arm, the two boys slightly behind her.  The Hawkshead Attacking Formation hadn't taken them long to master; it was fairly straightforward as plays went.  But Harry had them add a move.  Just as Felita pulled into position to score, Dax was to surge forward, scoop the ball from her and toss it through the post at the optimum point of entry.  The Hawkshead Potter, Grayson had titled it.

     "YES!" Harry shouted as Dax swept forward cleanly and tossed the ball through the post.  Maria dove for it and hit it away with the tail of her broom at the last instant.

     "YES!" Harry approved.  Grayson grinned and Felita nodded with a smile forming on her face.  Maria swept off to retrieve the Quaffle.

     "Jordan, Bailey, Thomas, get in there, I want you on defense," Harry said, looking over his shoulder to their three backup players.  The three were only second years and were considered in training for the next year.  They nodded, and joined the field, with their yellow robes to designate them from their teammates.

      "TRISTAN CARROLL PUT THAT BLOODY BAT OF YOURS TO USE!" Harry shouted as he ducked while a Bludger flew over his shoulder.  Trist grinned and followed orders.  Harper Thomas, the female second year, yelped as the Bludger headed straight for her.  She, too, ducked, and Trist chased the ball eagerly.  The other two second years, Evan Jordan and Phil Bailey, watched Trist sail off nervously.

     "Carroll, down field, 50 accuracy exercises, now!" Harry shouted at the boy's retreating form.  Trist sighed and snatched the Bludger.  He carried the struggling ball downfield to the opposite goalposts and proceeded to hit it through a post, zoom to the opposite side, hit it through the next post, zoom to the opposite side and so on.  Seeing the severity of the issue, Will paid closer attention to his own Bludger.

      "Again!" Harry said and the trio sprang into action.

     "Effective practice!  Very nice!" Harry said, as the team gathered equipment to bring it in for the night.  Trist was rubbing his arm mournfully.  By the end of practice, he had been forced to complete 200 accuracy exercises as well as reflex testing.  Will had joined him on the latter and was nearly out of breath from the constant dodging.

     Harry put an arm around her.

      "Thanks, Professor," Maria said as Phil and Evan struggled past, carrying the trunk containing the Quiddich balls.  

     "You're doing fine, just no more of that starfish nonsense," he said encouragingly.  She smiled.

     "Agreed."  He gave her an encouraging pat and stepped away.

     "Make sure all the equipment is back in the lockers," he said, as Karyn walked past, clutching her broomstick in one hand.  She was the only member of the team who seemed to be bouncing with each step.  The golden snitch was struggling in her hand but she clutched it protectively.

     "Mitchell, I want you to work on those dives.  I'm not asking for any Wronksi Feints, but you should be able to put on the brakes effectively," Harry said to her back.  Karyn glanced behind her with a smile.

     "Kay, Coach," she said, turning back around and heading for the lockers to change.

     "See you tomorrow," Harry reminded them as he parted, heading for his room in the castle.  The team groaned collectively and Harry smiled.  The fourth years had a practical tomorrow, and the third years were due in the library for research.  The second years were getting advanced dueling techniques, but a few had suffered the blows of fellow classmates the day previously.  They weren't overly anxious to return.  Maria and Will were the only members who had no reason to complain, but felt the urge to join the suffering.

     "Looking forward to this game, Professor?" Professor McGonagall called out to Harry as he passed her classroom on the way to his own.  Harry paused and stuck his head in the door.

     "They'll survive," he said with a smile.

     "They'd better.  If _Ravenclaw_ beats them into submission, I'm afraid I'd lose all respect for your coaching abilities, not to mention your teaching," McGonagall said carelessly, putting aside a few papers on her desk.

     "Didn't know my job was on the line.  Better tell the buggers to step it up," Harry said with a look of mock alarm.

     "The what?" McGonagall asked, looking at Harry in surprise.

     "The little blessings," Harry said sweetly.  McGonagall snorted in a very undignified manner and Harry took his leave with a parting smile.

~*~

     "Luna, did you take my editorial for the new edition of _Murphy's Dangerous Creatures_?" Ginny asked as she frantically shuffled through the papers on her desk.  She'd worked her arse off on that one.  It had the chance of earning her the promotion to assistant editor and now she couldn't find it.

     "Of course not," Luna said archly peering around the cubicle.

     "I can't find it," Ginny hissed, setting aside a stack of papers that did not contain the searched-for parchment.

     "I can't imagine why," Luna said lightly, and returned to her own desk.

     "Luna!" Ginny hissed.  She glanced at the clock.  The piece wasn't due until tomorrow, but she had hoped to turn it in to Yvonne early.  The day was ticking away and she didn't have much time remaining.

     "I don't know where it is, Ginny," Luna said.  Ginny sighed and slumped into her chair.  She desperately tried to recall where she might have left it.  Home?  Ginny shook her head, knowing that her desk at home was nearly clear, and that she hadn't brought it home in over a week.  Harry's?  No, Ginny shook her head again, a slight smile sneaking onto her lips.  She never brought work with her if she visited Harry.

     The thought of Harry sent Ginny's thoughts digressing.  Christmas was around the corner.  In fact, her seasonal holiday began on the twenty-first, which was but a few days away.  Ginny glanced at her ring and tried to keep the broad grin from developing.  Harry would be spending the holidays at the Burrow, their first real family event as a couple.  Ginny had already spent hours trying to find Harry the perfect gift.  Guys weren't easy to buy for, she realized.  She wanted to get him something with meaning, but something he too would appreciate.  But after getting in touch with the Creevy brothers, she was rewarded for her efforts.  Colin and his brother Dennis had a vast catalogue of photos beginning from Harry's second year up to Colin and Ginny's graduation.  She'd spent time carefully sorting through photographs and reimbursing the brothers.  She'd finally created a scrapbook of Harry's years at Hogwarts for him.  Ginny pulled it out of her bottom desk drawer, as though afraid it might have run away since she last checked.  It remained at the bottom of the drawer, its icy green cover shimmering in the shadows.

     "Please tell me you're not looking at that photo album again," Luna said, her voice right behind Ginny.  The latter started, knocking the drawer shut.

     "Are you trying to scare me?" Ginny said accusingly, turning in her chair to face her colleague.

     "Just thought you'd be interested that Marvin McGower found your editorial," Luna said, holding the paper toward Ginny. Ginny snatched it from her friend and looked it over hurriedly.  It was no secret that Marvin too wanted assistant editor.  He had been working in the department for a year and a half now, and when the position opened up last week, Ginny could practically hear his victory whoops from across the building.

     "McGower?" Ginny said in a low voice.  She scanned over her editorial, looking for any evidence of tampering.

     "Why were you leaving it around where he could find it?" Luna said, a frown flitting across her features.

     "I didn't!" Ginny screeched.  She glanced around, trying to keep her voice down.  "I didn't," she repeated more quietly.

     "Oh, come on, Ginny, he wouldn't sneak in here and steal it from your desk.  How would he know which article was for the editorship?" Luna said.

     "You're the one who's supposed to be overly suspicious, need I remind you?" Ginny replied.  Luna sighed and floated away.

     "Yvonne?" Ginny said, knocking on her editor's door.  Yvonne glanced up from the papers on her desk.

     "Come in, Ginny," she said, hurriedly motioning toward the chair in front of her desk.

     "I just wanted to drop this off," Ginny said awkwardly, running the paper carelessly through her thumb and index finger.  Yvonne looked up, and placed her reading glasses on the tip of her nose.  She took the paper and read the first few lines.

     "This is due tomorrow," she said, looking up at Ginny again.

     "I know.  But I'm done and I wanted it off my desk before it ran away," Ginny said, trying to paste a smile on her face.

     "You've been getting work done on time," Yvonne thought aloud.  "Early, in fact."

     "Yes," Ginny said, stopping herself from adding a "ma'am" to the end of that response.

     "Thank you.  If this is it, you're free to leave today," Yvonne said, placing the paper in her "inbox" and returning to the papers in front of her.  Ginny tried not to appear startled.  She managed to find her way out of the office and closed the door behind her.  She returned to her desk, gathering her purse and other items.  Luna poked her head out of her own cubicle.

      "Well?"

      "She said I'm free to go today," Ginny replied.

      "Oh.  Have a good time," Luna said, returning to her desk.  Ginny glided through the office down to the Floo Network Departures on the ground floor.  If Yvonne's words were any sign, Ginny was surely at least in the running for the promotion.

~*~

     "Oi, listen up!" Harry called over the din.  His class of fifth years was practically intolerable with the holidays arriving.  He wasn't sure if he would get anything done by the time vacation rolled around; he was doing his best just to get them to shut it every day.  The row died somewhat and he called for their attention again.

      "I thought I'd let you know you have an assignment over the holidays," Harry said dryly.  The class groaned.  He held up his hand.

      "_But_, if you can manage to keep your eye on the prize for the next two days, you'll be able to finish," Harry said.  The class quieted.

      "I want 3 investigative reports," Harry started, and the class groaned, "on the hindrance effects of water on hexes, spells, etc.  You will pick 3 aquatic defense scenes, study the means of attack, and your means of defense.  When you return, you will have a chance to put those proposed defenses to use.  Choose wisely," Harry said mysteriously.

      "Are you going to help us?" asked one girl tentatively.

      "I'll be nearby, and if things get out of hand I'll step in but only if absolutely necessary.  That, I would hope, would be the encouragement for in-depth study," Harry said.

     "He's just trying to get rid of us; it's easier to deal with one less class a day," said Andrew Prenner, a cocky Gryffindor toward the back of the class.  His classmates chuckled.

     "Or just you, Prenner," Harry said easily.  The bell rang and students jumped up eagerly, chattering excitedly.

     "See you at the match, Professor?" Maria asked hopefully as she gathered her books.

     "Wouldn't miss it," Harry grinned.  Marian smiled and scooted out the door.

~*~

     "Watch this…here they go…" Harry leaned over to Ginny and was whispering softly to her.  Their fingers were intertwined as they sat side-by-side and watched the last Quiddich match before the holidays.

      "Dax is going to pull up behind Felita there…yes…YES!" Harry stood and shouted, punching both fists into the air.  Dax, Felita, and Grayson both did some fancy swoops before catching Harry's eye and giving him triumphant thumbs-ups.  Even Maria on the opposite end of the field was grinning, though she hadn't lost her attention to the Quaffle.  Play resumed again, and as Harry sat, he noticed a Beater from Ravenclaw knock a Bludger out of their way.  By either dumb luck or athletic skill, it was headed right for Felita.  Suddenly, Trist flew in from nowhere and knocked the Bludger toward the Ravenclaw Seeker who ducked just in time.

     "EXCELLENT, CARROLL!" Harry called to Trist.  The boy turned and gave Harry a grin before sailing off again.

     "You're cute when you get all worked up," Ginny said, intertwining her fingers with Harry's again.

     "I thought you liked Quiddich," Harry said, watching the field rapturously.

     "I do.  But they're your babies so you're more into it," Ginny said, watching Harry with a smile.  He started as Ted Finch, a Ravenclaw chaser, managed to intercept the throw Felita had aimed at Grayson.

      "C'mon," Harry muttered, his eyes still glued to the action on the field.  Fortunately, Will was thinking on his feet, and Harry couldn't help but grin as the Beater aimed a Bludger right for Ted.  The Bludger hit its target—the tail end of Ted's broom.  The force of the ball sent Ted into a tailspin, which took the seventh-year by surprise.  He dropped the Quaffle as he attempted to right his dizzying spin.  Felita saw this and dove headlong for the Quaffle.

      "RIGHT ON, CASELY!" Harry shouted, pumping his unoccupied fist at Will.  "Decided to put all those ball retrieval skills to use," Harry said to Ginny as they watched Felita and Grayson juggle the ball back and forth as they moved down the field.  Just in front of a goal post, Felita faked another pass to Grayson but then proceeded to heave the ball through the post as the keeper started toward Grayson.  The Gryffindor chasers exchanged a high-five as they swooped back to the center.

      "GRYFFINDOR 80, RAVENCLAW 40," boomed the announcer over the roar over the crowd.

      "I wish Karyn would hurry up and find that Snitch," Harry mumbled, tightening his grip.

      "Easy, Harry," Ginny said, prying his fingers off hers.  She noticed his fingerprints on the back of her hand.

      "Sorry," Harry said, looking down at her hand with a grin.  He placed his arm around her shoulders and scooted her closer.

      "Much better," Ginny said, leaning her head against his shoulder.  The late December air was downright freezing.  Why she had agreed to watch the match was beyond her.

     "There!" Harry said suddenly, pointing at the field.  Ginny lifted her head and tried to follow his finger.  It was moving sporadically.  "The Snitch!"

     "I don't see it," Ginny frowned, trying to catch a glimpse of the gold ball.

     "Wait," Harry said, his arm over her shoulders tensing.  "Karyn does."

      Karyn's gaze was now intently focused in the area where Harry had pointed.  The Ravenclaw seeker hadn't spotted it yet, and she was going to make sure it remained so.  She dove below the players, trying to catch the opposite seeker's attention, while keeping one eye on the Snitch.  It worked.  The Ravenclaw seeker, a female sixth year followed Karyn's lead, diving below the game in an attempt to reach the Snitch.  Karyn's dive didn't last long though.  The other girl was intensely fixated on the area in front of her, diving without a clear purpose.  Karyn suddenly pulled up and shot straight upwards, her hand outstretched.  She flew past Casely and a Beater from Ravenclaw, stopping her ascent a short distance above their heads.  She held her fist aloft, shaking it victoriously.

      "KARYN MITCHELL, GRYFFINDOR SEEKER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!  THE GAME IS OVER! GRYFFINDOR WINS!" cried the announcer, an excitable fourth year Hufflepuff.  He was no Lee, but he kept the crowd excited.  Harry refrained from jumping up and down as the team celebrated on the field.

     "You ready to go in?" Harry said, kissing Ginny's temple.

     "If my feet aren't frozen," she said, stomping them.

     "Good, let's go congratulate the team," Harry laughed, lifting her to her feet.

     The team was in high spirits when Harry entered the locker room congratulating them.  Casely and Carroll had lifted Maria onto a bench and were bowing before her.

      "Did you see that block she did when old Finch came in from the left?  He thought he had her for sure!" Harper Thomas squeaked excitedly, looking at Maria in awe.  Maria was biting her lip in embarrassment but still laughing in spite of her modesty.

      "You were all brilliant!" Harry called over the ruckus.  Everyone turned to him, jabbering excitedly.  Harry pulled Ginny along behind him as he entered the lockers, grins all around.

      "Excellent move, Karyn.  I didn't even teach her that one," Harry said, giving the girl a hearty slap on the back.  Karyn's eyes twinkled and she laughed.

     "I'm very proud of you all, even if you _are_ all aware that you could have beat Ravenclaw on an off day," Harry said, and eruptions of braggart filled the room, affirming his statement.

     "You've ended the mid-year with a bang-up job," Harry said.  "Don't forget to practice over the holidays.  I'll see you in January!"  Cheer erupted around him and Harry smiled as he made his exit.

     "They really love you," Ginny said as they returned to the cool December air.  Harry snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side as they walked back to the castle to pick up Harry's things.

     "They're fantastic kids," Harry said proudly.  "Catch on quick, and barely ever second guess me.  But keep me on my toes, I'll tell you."

     "You're worse than a new father!" Ginny laughed, her voice carrying across the quickly depopulating fields.

     "Sometimes I feel like a new father," Harry responded.  "Sometimes I worry about them; they come in and all I want to do is make them smile.  Not just the team, but all the students.  Of course there's a few I'd rather stayed at home, but…I like this, Ginny.  I honestly do."

     "You deserve happiness more than anyone else I know, Harry," Ginny said quietly.

     "The only thing I don't deserve is the one thing I want more than anything else," he said, looking down at her with love in his eyes.  Ginny smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.

      "That makes two of us," she said.  Harry kissed the top of her head as they returned to the enclosed warmth of the school.

~*~

     "Happy Christmas!" Harry awoke to someone beating at the door.  He saw Charlie across the room groan and fall out of Ron's bed with a crash.  The whole Weasley clan was gathered at the Burrow for Christmas.  Ginny shared her room with Danica while Bill, Chessie, and Zack were bunked in George and Fred's old room.   Ron and Hermione slept in Percy's while Charlie, Harry, and Percy crammed into Ron's old attic room.  The twins had set up in a tent outside.  The inside of the tent was a warm a cozy log cabin; Harry had an inkling they were more comfortable in that than he and his two roommates were in Ron's old room.

     "It can't be morning," Harry groaned, sitting up in his cot.  He fumbled for his glasses and saw, after placing them on his nose, that his watch read exactly 8:02am.

     "Sod off," Percy grumbled at the door and rolled over.  Whoever pounded on the door hadn't bothered to come in, and Harry could hear their footsteps retreating in the stairwell.

     "Sounds like we're not the only ones up," Charlie yawned, pulling himself back onto the bed.  "What time is it, Harry?"

     "You don't want to know," Harry mumbled, throwing on a robe.  Just then another knock came at the door, this one more subdued.  Chessie poked her head around the door.

     "Morning, sleepyheads.  We've got coca waiting," she said softly.  Harry could see Zack peering around his mother's legs.

     "Unka' Charlie, it's Chris'mas," Zack said tentatively, craning his head around the door looking for his uncle.

     "Thank you, Zack," Charlie said, one arm thrown across his eyes.  "Uncle Charlie isn't awake yet.  Please try again later," he said flatly, reminding Harry of a recorded phone operator.

      "We agreed on 8:30, no earlier," Percy said from under his bundle of covers.

     "Sorry, Percy, but Zack woke up at 5 and he's been quiet for three hours.  I guess I could ask him for a little more time," Chessie said sweetly, trying to evoke guilt.  It worked.  Percy sighed and rolled over.

     "Santa left present, Unka' Percy.  You come see?" Zack asked, creeping over to Percy's cot.  He placed his hands on the edge and stood on tiptoe, trying to catch Percy's eye.

     "I'm coming, Zack," Percy said begrudgingly and threw his legs over the side.

     "I'll go get your cocoa ready," Chessie said, winking at Harry as she waddled out of sight.  Seven months along and she look as gorgeous as ever.  Harry knew that Ron could only hope that Hermione stayed as fresh—and perky—as Chessie somehow managed to do when it was her turn.

     "Let's go, Zack.  I'm expecting a fire engine," Harry said, offering a hand to the three-year-old.  Zack instead raised both his hands for Harry to pick him up.  He obliged and toted the boy downstairs.

      "Aunt Ginny!" Zack cried and began to wriggle when they had reached the bottom of the stairs.  Ginny was curled up on the couch with Hermione and Danica.  She grinned and held her arms out to the boy.  Harry set the toddler down and Zack promptly rushed into Ginny's waiting arms.  She scooped him up and began cuddling him on the couch as Zack pointed out the mound of presents by the fireplace and tree.

     "Next year, we're doing a Pollyanna," Danica said as Harry sat on the floor by Ginny's spot on the couch.

     "Buying presents for this whole family is ridiculous," she continued, rolling her eyes as she embraced a mug of cocoa.

     "No kidding," Hermione said, yawning and stretching.  Ron exited the kitchen, holding two mugs.  He handed one to Hermione and gave her a kiss in addition.

     "Where is Charlie?" Danica asked Harry.  He looked up at her.

     "He's coming.  Not quite awake yet," Harry said and yawned.  Ginny smiled.

     "Evidently neither are you," she said, nudging him with a foot since both hands were still full of Zack.

     "At least I'm down here," Harry said defensively.  The twins came in from outside, slapping their limbs energetically.

     "Freezing out there," Fred said, looking at the mugs of cocoa wistfully.

     "Get your own," Ron said with disapproval.

     "Are you going to begrudge your elder brothers who gave up their room for their own kin only to sleep outside in the middle of freezing December winds one mug of cocoa?" George asked piteously.

     "Get your own," Danica repeated Ron's statement and nodded toward the kitchen.  George and Fred sighed exhaustedly and trudged toward the kitchen.  They rejoined the group moments later, hands curled around steaming mugs of their own.  Percy and Charlie trudged downstairs, both rubbing their eyes.

     "Well, look who joined the land of the living," Danica said affectionately as Charlie kissed her good-morning.  She handed him her mug and he took a grateful sip.

     "Why does he get to share?" George asked indignantly.

     "We already share cooties," Danica said as Charlie handed her the mug.  Fred looked at Danica suggestively.

     "But, darling don't you remember that one…hot…"

     "Please, don't make me gag before breakfast," Danica retorted hastily.

     "NO GAGGING UNTIL NOON!" Bill shouted suddenly.  They all jumped and stared at him as he came out of the kitchen, followed by Chessie.  She smiled apologetically and placed a hand on his arm.

     "Sorry, it's a reflex.  My nausea's lasted a bit longer this time," she said, giving Bill a kiss.  This seemed to snap him out of his state of shock and he relaxed.  Ginny released her nephew, who scurried over to embrace his father's knees.

     "Where's Mum and Dad?" Charlie asked, taking a seat behind Danica on the back of the sofa.  Bill thumbed over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen.

     "Coming.  Why don't we let munchkin here start?" Bill said, tousling his son's hair.

     "You will not allow my first and only present grandchild to open his presents without me!" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen.

     "Just his stocking, Mum.  He's been good so long," Bill pleaded, sounding very much like a child himself.

     "NO.  We'll be right out."

     Bill sighed and carried his son over to the fireplace, where they took a seat by the hearth.  Zack was eyeing his stocking greedily but continued to obey his elders—for the moment anyway.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exited the kitchen, each carrying a tray of beverages and muffins.

     "To hold you over until breakfast," Mrs. Weasley explained as they set the trays on the short table in front of the sofa.  Most of the glasses contained eggnog, others had pumpkin juice, and Mr. Weasley's tray was full of steaming mugs of cocoa and buttered muffins.  Everyone squished into the room, watching Zack affectionately.  Mrs. Weasley clasped her hands in her lap as she sat in the armchair.

     "Now," she said.  Bill released the boy, who promptly lunged for his stocking.  He eagerly pulled out the goodies, showing everything to his father eagerly.  Bill reacted with over-exuberance, which pleased Zack to no end.  After finishing with his stocking, Bill had Zack hand out all the other stockings, making his way around the room.  Everyone dug into theirs eagerly, and exclamations of joy filled the room.  The morning progressed slowly as everyone opened his or her gifts.  Most were from couples to couples, which saved on the quantity of presents.  Harry had given Hermione and Ron separate presents, a fact he felt was somewhat appropriate and necessary after all the shared wedding gifts they had received. Ginny had taken the honor of giving them their first Christmas ornament—a red glass ball with golden script that proclaimed "Our First Christmas—Ron and Hermione" and the year below it.  Hermione had gone positively misty, which worried Ron, as he wasn't sure how to react to her reaction.

     With all the gifts unwrapped, everyone sat back and chatted, inspecting their gifts and sipping their beverages.  Mrs. Weasley disappeared into the kitchen to fix breakfast, with Chessie close behind.  Ginny glanced at their departure and sighed.

     "I have to go help.  But I wanted to give you your present separate," she said quietly to Harry.  He smiled.

     "I wondered about that," Harry said as she stood from the couch.  She had received her gift already: a pair of square-cut emerald earrings, an instant delight.  Ginny returned with a poorly wrapped package and drew Harry into the dining room.

     "I wrapped it myself, I'm afraid," she said, smiling weakly as he tore off the paper.  He looked at it curiously and opened the front.  A very young Harry was pulling a young Ron into a  picture.  It was in the Great Hall, and Harry recognized it as a picture into which Colin had cornered him.  He flipped through the pages, observing a younger Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Hagrid and even a few shots of Snape and Lupin.  In general, however, it was mostly shots of him, Ron, and Hermione around Hogwarts.  As the years progressed the scope of people became wider, including more shots of Dean, Seamus, and Neville and one shot of the whole DA.  The final shot was of Harry, Ron and Hermione at graduation, grinning madly at one another with Dean, Seamus and Neville close by.  Colin had shoved Ginny into this picture, too, and she was eyeing Harry cautiously from time to time as he did the same to her.

     "This is fantastic, Ginny," Harry breathed, flipping through the pages.

     "I knew you were a sentimental fool at heart," Ginny said, a smile creeping over her face.  Harry laughed and kissed her deeply.  She pulled away, eyes shining drunkenly with love.

     "I love it.  I love you," he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

     "Love you too," she said softly.  She rubbed her nose against his and pulled away.  "I've got to help in the kitchen.  Enjoy."

      Harry watched her depart into the kitchen before cracking open the book again, laughing at the captured personas of his younger self.  He hurried to return to the others, knowing Ron and Hermione would be eager to see the album as well.

~*~

     "Can you believe all this?" Hermione said as she snuggled against Ron's side.  They were back at home late that evening, the activity for the day having died down at the Burrow.  She and Ron were cuddled on the couch, Ron's arm around Hermione, as they watch the fire in the hearth die down.

     "All what?" Ron asked.

     "Everything: us, our house, my job, your job, everybody's healthy, everybody's happy," Hermione listed.  She sighed.

     "I don't know that we can ever be this happy again."

     "Boy, you sure know how to spoil a mood," Ron said.

     "Sorry, it just slipped out," she laughed.  She sobered and watched the flames.

     "Ron?"

     "Hm?" Ron answered sounding as though he were ready to drift off.

     "Have we talked about children?" Hermione asked, thinking of Bill and Chessie.

     "God, Hermione we just got married," Ron said, very much awake.

     "I didn't mean _now_.  But we should talk about it," Hermione said firmly.

     "If we don't want them now, why do we have to talk about it now?" Ron asked and Hermione detected a note of panic.  She turned to face him.  The firelight and shadows danced across his face and she couldn't help but reach out and touch his cheek lightly.

     "I just thought we should get it out of the way.  We both want children," she said, tracing her finger down his face and sending shivers down his spine.  Ron realized she was going to win this fight by seduction.  Well, if he had to lose, he supposed that was the way to go.

     "Well, yeah, of course.  But I don't want a houseful," Ron said weakly, resisting the urge to kiss her fingers that were tip-toeing their way into his hair.

     "Neither do I," Hermione said, leaning forward to kiss him.

     "Well, good, sounds like that's settled," Ron said, slipping his arms around her and drawing her closer.

     "Hm, maybe two…or three…" Hermione said between kisses, and Ron could tell she was losing interest in the topic as she began following his jaw with more kisses.

     "If we had kids, we certainly couldn't do this," Ron murmured, his hands cupping her face as he brought her closer for another sultry kiss.  He could feel her slowly undoing his dress shirt, her fingers lightly flicking aside the buttons.  He leaned forward and paid his attentions to her neck.

     "That is painfully true," Hermione responded faintly with something of a shuddering sigh.  They could finish this discussion in the morning…

~*~

     "I'll miss you," Harry said as he kissed Ginny good-bye.  They had stood on the platform for nearly twenty minutes trying to say good-bye.  The departure time had finally arrived, cutting their time.

     "Miss you, too," Ginny said, leaning against him.  Harry wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger and tugged at it lightly.

     "You coming to visit soon?" he asked hopefully.

     "Soon.  I have to finish a few things for Yvonne.  Someone's leaving the department and there's an opportunity for promotion," Ginny said.  Harry laughed.

     "I seem to recall you telling me that seven or so times."

     Ginny smiled.

     "You have a bad memory, couldn't hurt to remind you," she said, standing on tiptoe to offer him another peck good-bye.

     "Bye," Harry said, slinging a bag over his shoulder.  Ginny gave him a wobbly grin and stepped back as he boarded the train.


	35. At last

Chapter Thirty-Four

     "Quills down!" Harry said.  He needn't have bothered.  The Test-Timer Charm Professor Flitwick had taught him had immediately whisked the quills out of all hands at the pre-appointed time; quills suspended in the air across the classroom as Harry spoke.  Students looked up at their quills wistfully, wishing to finish a few questions or sentences.  They handed their parchments to the front of each row, and Peggy Andrews in the first seat by the door took them all to Harry's desk.

     "Thank you, Peggy," he said, smiling as he took them.  Peggy blushed and returned to her seat.  The girl blushed anytime anyone said anything to her, and she normally hid her face in her dirty-blonde ringlets.  In fact, Harry wasn't sure she'd ever said a word voluntarily.  _She must not get much attention at home_, he thought as she took her seat.  Harry shuffled the papers and returned the quills to their owners.

     "I'm sure you all did very well," Harry said, standing and coming to the front of his desk.  "We will finish with practical application tomorrow.  If anyone forgets their wand, you'll have to make do with a school-issue."

     The first "practical application" Harry had tried resulted in three students forgetting their wands.  As third years, this was somewhat inexcusable and they had points taken off their graded exercise for it.  The second time, the only boy who had forgotten his wand was Jeremy Trotter. Last week he had forgotten his homework in the Gryffindor common room and Harry came to the conclusion the boy likely suffered from the same ailment as Neville once—and often still—did.

     Almost on cue, Jeremy raised his hand, his short brown hair sticking straight up along with his hand.

     "Professor?" he asked, getting Harry's attention.

     "Yes?"

     "Can I leave my wand with you now, just in case?" The class giggled and Jeremy grinned sheepishly.  His white teeth stood out against his olive complexion.  Harry sighed and nodded.

     "Just leave it on my desk," Harry said, tapping a space beside him.  Jeremy dug into his knapsack and produced the wand, running it to the front of the class.  He placed it on the desk with a grin.

     "Better do it now, before I—"

     "—forget," the class finished for him.  Harry nodded.

     "All right, Jeremy.  Any comments about the test?"  Harry asked, addressing the class.  He had always taken something of an open forum after tests, feeling out students' opinions.

     "Too easy," drawled one boy in the back.  A few of his nearby classmates hissed at him.

     "I'll take that into consideration, Shawn," Harry said with a smile, recognizing the murderous looks in Shawn's classmates' eyes.  Hermione had received quite a few of those.  Shawn was one of those all-around guys it was hard not to like, even if you didn't want to.  He reminded Harry something of Cedric.

     "Anything else?" Harry asked, looking around the room.

     "I thought question six was tricky," said Faye, a soft-spoken girl with long toffee coloured hair.  She always left it hanging straight down her back, with only a cloth headband keeping it out of her eyes.  Harry was always amazed that none of the boys had ever decided to use Faye's hair against her—the typical dip in the ink and so on.  He looked into her grey eyes and almost shivered.  Through the gentility, Harry sensed a bite that would be much worse than any bark.

     "Let's take a look at it then," Harry said, turning slightly to pick up an extra test sheet from his desk.  He enjoyed relating to the students like this.  When he made the test, sometimes his errors weren't obvious until the students pointed them out.  In cases such as those, he would reward them points on their test sheets.

     The bell rang just as Harry finished reviewing possible essay answers.

     "Practical application tomorrow," he called as the students jumped from their seats and began to pack.  "Hint: review chapters six through eight," Harry said as the students filed out of the room.

     "Jeremy," Harry stopped the boy before he entered the crowded hall.

     "Will you need this for other classes today?" Harry asked, holding up Jeremy's maple wand.  Jeremy thought hard.

     "No, I don't think so.  Arithmancy and Herbology.  That's it, Professor."  Harry nodded and motioned the boy along.

     Harry was in the midst of teaching the first-years basic defense (_Expelliarmus_) when Jeremy burst into the classroom out of breath.  He lunged forward, panting, and snatched his wand off the desk.

     "Transfiguration!" he gasped, before turning and running out the door again.

~*~

     A knock on the door interrupted Harry from grading test papers.

     "Come in," he responded, circling an answer on the paper.

     "Do you have a minute, Professor?" Ginny leaned against the doorjamb, her arms crossed.  Harry looked up at the sound of her voice and smiled.

     "A lifetime.  Take a seat," he said, pointing to the chair placed in front of the desk.  Ginny obliged and took a seat after closing the door behind her.  

     His office was fairly simple.  Most of his decorating energy had gone into the classroom.  His office served mainly as a storage area of sorts for creatures he intended to introduce to the class.  The cage in the far corner, for instance, rattled angrily from time to time.  

     "What's that?" Ginny asked, referring to the cloth-covered cage.  Harry glanced over his shoulder.

     "Oh."  He rolled his chair over and lifted the sheet from it.  Inside sat something that reminded Ginny of a cottonball.  It turned glassy black eyes toward Ginny and growled mutinously.

     "I repeat, what is that?" Ginny said as the cottonball flung itself against the bars of the cage, desperately trying to escape.  Harry dropped the sheet and the desperate clanging subsided.

     "A Nimberball.  Cute as hell, but don't get it mad.  They're like mini-vampires engulfed in fluff," Harry said, rolling back to his desk.  "For the third years."

     "How do you like the kids?" Ginny asked.

     "Great.  Some of them are brats of course.  But for the most part, they're enjoyable."  Ginny pursed her lips and glanced around the room.  Her eyes lit upon a large green spot on the wall that resembled an amoeba.  It kept reaching and pushing with its shapeless self, moving along the wall.

     "Got that from Moody, isn't it great?" Harry asked, following her gaze.

     "I think so," she said, her eyes still glued to the creature.  For all its movements, it hadn't gotten very far.

     "It's a form of security.  I put a password on my door when I leave the room.  Anyone who enters without the password immediately gets a room full of knockout gas.

     "Of course, I really don't have much use for it.  There's not much in here that students are especially keen to get.  I've thought about making it a gift to Snape, seeing as how he's always complaining about people getting into his potions.  But it's a clever bugger all the same," Harry said proudly.  "Name's Sherbert."

     "Interesting," Ginny murmured, watching as "Sherbert" inched onto the ceiling.

     "What brings you to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

     "Besides a very good looking teacher?" Ginny said, leaning on the desk.  Harry grinned.

     "You and Snape serious, then?"

     "Harry!" Ginny shrieked, appalled at the thought.  "That's disturbing!"  She laughed.

     "You free?" she asked, slightly teasing.

     "Unfortunately, no.  I've got to get Fluffy over there ready for tomorrow, finish these tests, and read some essays the 7th years turned in last week."

     "Harry, we had a date!" Ginny exclaimed, fearful he wasn't joking.  She pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket.  Harry looked at it curiously.

         _Dearest Ginny—_

_                    Can you come to Hogwarts for an evening?  I'd like to get out.  Thursday around seven?_

_             Yours,_

_             Harry_

     "Oh," Harry said sadly.  "I'm really sorry, Gin.  I forgot." 

     "You're not joking," Ginny said quietly.  "You put off their essays for a week, what's another day?" she said, trying to bargain.

     "I really can't.  I promised them tonight," Harry sighed.

     "What about us?" Ginny said, standing angrily.

     "You've put us off for almost two months!" She said, her hurt evident in her eyes.  She swept the papers off Harry's desk in frustration.  Harry looked at the mess and then up at her, something hidden in his face.

     "I should've known better.  The great Harry Potter is just in too high demand," she spat.  Harry stood.

     "Ginny," he said in a low tone.  "Please don't do this."

     "You haven't answered any of my owls since Christmas," Ginny said, hot tears forming in her eyes.  "You keep canceling our dates—what am I supposed to do, Harry?"

     "I think—" Harry paused as tears streamed down her face.  "Maybe you should go lie down for awhile."

     "You are something else," Ginny said slowly.  Tears were rolling down her cheeks silently.  They stared at each other, Ginny in hurt and Harry in worry.

     "Fine," she said quietly.  "But don't wait up for me."

~*~

     Ginny wandered the halls angrily.  She even found herself in the company of Moaning Myrtle and enjoying it.  Of course, it was mostly because she didn't hear a word Myrtle was saying.  The blood rushing in her head and her raging thoughts of Harry blocked most sounds.

     "I thought he was just busy.  First year and all that.  He didn't even act happy to see me, never mind our date," Ginny spat angrily.  Myrtle had stopped prattling for a moment and the words fell out of Ginny.

     "Boys are useless," Myrtle said loftily.  "I'd never let a boy break my heart," she continued.

     "Shut it," Ginny snapped irritably.  "I didn't let it happen, it just did."

     Ginny hadn't the heart to visit any old professors to take her mind off Harry.  She feared she'd tell them about the row.  At the moment, she didn't want consoling words, just time to be mad.  After leaving Myrtle and wandering the castle for duration, Ginny unexpectedly found herself in front of the secret entrance to the teachers' quarters.  It was nearly midnight, and she had now wandered the whole of the castle in about four hours.  Ginny's anger had now ebbed, leaving her exhausted.  Determined not to talk to Harry, Ginny took the hall to his room.  She'd sneak in, nap on the couch, and escape early.

     When Ginny opened the door, the darkness was heavy with a sweet scent of lilacs.  She ventured into the room filled with curiosity.  A low fire was burning in the hearth, lighting the room with a soft glow.  Candles atop the mantle and beside the fireplace flickered slightly with the movement of air the door had created.  The candles appeared to be the culprits of the perfumed air.  Ginny's gaze finally took in the couch where Harry sat, the firelight dancing on his face.  He leaned forward slightly, arms resting on his knees, and he held a glass of red wine in his hands.  His gaze was pointed to the table in front of him.  He turned to look at her when she stood beside the couch.

     "Ginny," he said softly.  She loved the way her name sounded on his lips.  But she wouldn't let that break her.

     "I told you not to wait up," she said flatly.

     "People are usually sarcastic when they say that.  I took a chance," Harry said.  She turned away, headed for the door.

     "Ginny, wait.  We need to talk," said Harry, putting his glass down on the table.

     "Fine."  Ginny stood by the couch, her arms folded resolutely.

     "Could you at least sit down?" Harry suggested, making room on the couch.  Ginny sighed and flung herself on the couch, pushing herself into the corner, as far away from Harry as possible.

     "First, I want to say I'm really sorry about not answering your owls.  I did get caught up in things here, and time flew by.  I hadn't realized how many you'd sent until I just check…and I realized I couldn't remember the last time I sent you an owl.  I'm really sorry, Ginny, and I hope you can forgive me," Harry said honestly.  The firelight glinted off his glasses.

     Ginny looked at him dubiously and didn't respond.

     "And second…well, this is rather stupid, actually," said Harry with humility written on his face.  "I didn't forget about our date…really.  I thought that if you thought I'd forgotten the date, this would come as more of a surprise," Harry said, picking up something from the table.  Ginny hadn't noticed that box before.

     So help me, if that has earrings in it, I'm going to kill him, she thought, her heart beating wildly.

     "I had no idea you'd take it so hard," Harry admitted, his hands still tightly clasping the black box.

     "What were you thinking?  How could I not be hurt?" Ginny finally asked.  Harry smile apologetically.

     "I wasn't.  I don't think very clearly when it comes to you, I'm afraid," he admitted.  Ginny felt her heart soften.  Harry cleared his throat and continued.

     "I just wanted this to be a surprise," he murmured, holding the box.  "I really am sorry, Ginny.  I've behaved terribly.  And maybe this isn't the best time to ask, considering you're mad right now and might not answer the way you normally would…and I know we haven't been dating officially for very long…but it doesn't change the fact that I do love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you."

     Harry cracked open the box to reveal a small and simple gold band adorned with a modest diamond-shaped emerald.  Ginny could the firelight reflected in the pristine metal.  A sound escaped her that was something between a sigh and a gasp, which Harry thought would be a difficult combination.

     Ginny threw her arms around Harry's neck as she fought back tears.

     "You great prat," she said, her voice quavering.  She kissed his cheek as she drew away.  "You are horrible."

     Harry smiled.

     "That sounds like a yes to me," he said, pulling the ring out of the box and offering it to her.  Ginny held out her hand and Harry slipped the ring onto her waiting finger.

     "Moaning Myrtle will be furious with me," Ginny said, throwing herself at Harry again.

     "What?"

     "We had a boy-bashing session in the girls' toilets," Ginny said, smiling.  Harry rolled his eyes.

     "Promise me you'll never do that again.  Not with her, anyway.  I'd like to keep her as far from my personal life as possible."

     Ginny laughed.  "Agreed."  They shared a lingering kiss, after which Ginny pulled away with a sigh.  She glanced at the hearth, where she saw that the painting had again been covered.  She smiled.

     "A bit presumptuous," she said, nodding toward it.

     "I took a chance," Harry murmured, meeting her lips again.  Ginny melted into his arms and remained content to absorb the perfection of the moment.  He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her…well, she supposed that was good enough.

Fin 

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Well, it's been fun, folks! :) It's been really rewarding getting all those super reviews! ^-^  I don't know if I've hit writer's block or not w/ this story, but I am feeling this might be it.  If there is an epilogue waiting for me one day when I wake up or something, then I will definitely write it.  I'd like to see R/H and H/G have kids but I dunno how much more I can get away w/ when there's no plot! ^-^ Thank you so much for sticking with this!!  


	36. Epilogue

A/N:  Thanks for all the reviews.  I enjoyed writing this and maybe one day I'll develop a plot and everything! :)

Epilogue

     "I thought that if anyone would do it big, you would," Hermione said, checking off the comfortable wine-plush chairs that Ginny and Ron were conjuring.

     "Because I'm the only girl?" Ginny said with a puff as she heaved a chair into its position on the lawn.

     "Yeah," Hermione said, watching Ron in amusement as he attempted to keep two of the chairs from mauling each other.

     "I think you and Ron pulled that one off for me, thankfully.  Mum was a little disappointed, but Dad was happy.  It perked Mum considerably when we said we wanted it here, though," Ginny said as she collapsed into a chair in the front row.  Hermione began pointing at the chairs with her quill, counting them under her breath.

     "One-ten.  Better make it twenty, just in case," Hermione advised Ginny.  Ginny sighed and pointed to Hermione's list.

     "Make a note and we'll take care of it tomorrow."  Hermione obliged and made a note next to the box checked for "Seating."

     "Put that one here, Ron," Hermione said, pointing to the seat next to Ginny.  With a heave, Ron managed to subdue the chair into the front row, while its mortal enemy glowered in the back row of the bride's side.

      "Only you would manage to come up with wrestling chairs," Hermione said, shaking her head in disbelief.

      "I don't see you getting dirty," Ron puffed, leaning his palms against his bent knees as he gulped air.

     "Someone needs to delegate," she said lightly, ruffling his hair.

     "Miss I-got-the-highest-ever-scores-in-all-the-history-of-N.E.W.T.S and O.W.L.S," Ron continued to grumble.  Hermione bent down and gave him a kiss, which seemed to brighten his mood considerably.

     "When's Harry coming?" Hermione asked as she eased Ron into one of the chairs.  He reached for her, trying to pull her into his lap, but Hermione slapped him away and kept her gaze on Ginny.

     "Tomorrow," Ginny responded, a smile lighting her face.  Their engagement had been a quick one: a proposal on February eighth and a wedding on the twenty-second.  Many had thought it impossible.  But after Ginny's training with Hermione's large wedding, she had learned what corners to cut and how to speed up some processes.  The only problem had been Chessie.  With her increasing size, she was unable to contribute much, and she hadn't actually been fit for her dress until a few days ago.  Ginny knew her sister-in-law was due sometime that month.  What Chessie had neglected to mention was that she was actually due on the twentieth.  She and Bill would arrive tomorrow for the rehearsal, as would Charlie and Danica and Percy and Luna.  Hermione was, of course, the maid-of-honor.  Percy, by some miracle, had found a date and had begged Ginny that she might be in the wedding party.  For tactful reasons, Ginny had to decline the request and paired him with Luna instead.

     "Are you ready?" Hermione asked, slapping away Ron's hand again as he reached up for her again.

     "I guess," she said hesitantly.  She wasn't sure exactly how it was supposed to work, she realized as she mused about the future.  Would she live with Harry at Hogwarts?  She would have to use Floo to get to work, she supposed.  What would it be like to live at the school again?

     "You're ready," Ron said confidently.

     "Thanks, Mr. Nervous Wreck," Ginny said flatly.

     "You were what?" Hermione asked, finally turning to look at Ron. He flushed and gave Ginny a dirty glare.

     "I was _fine_," Ron said weakly.  Ginny smirked and stole away as Hermione's attentions were now focused on Ron.

~*~

     "Are you alright?" Bill whispered to Chessie as they took a seat in the kitchen.  Members of the wedding party crowded around them, jabbering excitedly.  Ginny had her arm tucked into Harry's and both of them looked very pleased with themselves.  Ron and Hermione weren't too far away, with Ron leaned back in his chair, an arm draped across the back of Hermione's chair and his hand playing with her hair absently.

     "Fine," Chessie hissed back as she slapped Zack's hand away from an extra cream puff.  The boy's lip trembled dangerously as Bill pulled his son away from the testy mother.

     "You look a little—"

     "Don't say it, Bill."  Chessie looked up from her plate with murder gleaming in her eyes.  He took her advice and swallowed his next words.

     "This is Ginny's thing.  I'll be fine for another day.  I've done this before, you know," she hissed.

     "Not too often, I hope," Bill said as Zack climbed into his father's lap.  Chessie shrugged and turned back to her plate nonchalantly.

     "Wouldn't you like to know?"

     "_I_ certainly would," Fred said, stealing over Chessie's shoulder and nabbing the same cream puff Zack had attempted to pilfer moments ago.

     "Beat it, wouldn't you, dear?" Chessie said sweetly, snatching the puff out of Fred's hand just as he poised to pop it into his mouth.

     "Letting that baby get to you again?" Fred asked, planting a smacking kiss on Chessie's cheek.

     "Would you like to have the next one?" she said, plastering a sarcastic smile on her face.

     "Might consider it," Fred responded, sauntering off.

     "If that's not disturbing, I'm not quite sure what is," Bill remarked as he watched his brother saunter back to the crowd.  "Watching your wife discussing impregnating your brother, that is."

      "You're just over-tired," Chessie said, patting Bill's hand as she popped the cream puff into her mouth.

~*~

     "You could act a little nervous or something," Hermione said, helping Ginny into her jacket.  She smoothed the back of the jacket and stepped back and admired her friend in awe.

      "I feel like the cat that swallowed the canary," Ginny said, unable to reduce the smile breaking her face.  She picked up her bouquet of daisies as she wriggled comfortably in her dress.  Mrs. Weasley stood in the corner of Ginny's room, dabbing her eyes and sniffling now and again.

     "Our little baby," she garbled through her tears repeatedly.

     "Now, Mum, you will pull yourself together, won't you?" Ginny said gently, taking her mother's elbow and planting a soft kiss on her mother's damp cheek.

      "Oh, oh," was Mrs. Weasley's only response as she tried not to clutch Ginny too tightly and wrinkle her gown.  Her own mother-of-the-bride dress was the same lovely lilac she had bought for Ron and Hermione's wedding.  She had added the light touch of a crème hat, which gave the ensemble a new look.

     "Zack's tied down for the moment.  Might want to get a move on, Gin," Chessie said, closing the door behind her as she entered the room.  Ginny took a deep breath and clutched her bouquet.

     "I guess…this is it," she said, glancing at the mirror and then at Hermione.  Her best friend gave her an ecstatic grin in return.  Danica turned away from her place at the window.

     "Ron keeps checking his watch, Charlie's already taken off his tie and Bill looks like he might collapse at any moment," she informed them.  "I guess we'd better go save our men folk.  Ironically enough, Percy's the only normal-looking one down there."

      "It's about time," muttered Luna who was physically sick at the though of linking arms with Percy to walk down the aisle.

      The ladies filed out of the room; Danica took Mrs. Weasley's arm and lead her.  Hermione gave Ginny's hand a quick squeeze and Ginny could see tears shining in Hermione's joyful eyes.  Hermione leaned forward and gave her friend a kiss on the cheek.

      "I'm so happy for you," she said, trying to hold back her tears.

      "Stop," Ginny said, trying to laugh as she felt her own emotion rising.

      "You look beautiful," Hermione said, pursing her lips and wiping away a stray tear.

      "What is this?" Ginny said, as Hermione pulled a hanky out of her powder blue handbag—dyed to match her dress.

      "I know.  I'm just so happy for you, for Harry, for me, for Ron, for Chessie and Bill…oh God, my mascara's running!" Hermione said, laughing shakily as black streaks appeared on the hanky.  She quickly recovered herself and patted her eyes dry.  Ginny whipped out a tube of mascara hidden in Hermione's purse and Hermione quickly reapplied her makeup.

      "OK.  I think we can go now," Hermione said, clipping the purse shut and nodding resolutely to Ginny.  The two girls descended the stairs to where the remainder of the wedding party waited.  Mr. Weasley had taken Danica's place beside his wife.  Ginny was touched to see her parent's clasped hands, her father's free arm around his wife's shoulders.  She glanced at Chessie and Bill who had just exchanged a quick kiss; Hermione and Ron were smiling coyly at each other as Hermione slipped her arm through Ron's proffered elbow.  Ginny suddenly felt as though she were being inducted into a very elite society and she felt her heart leap as she caught a glimpse through the window of Harry waiting by the minister.  She took her place beside her parents, taking her father's arm and clasping her mother's hand.  She gave a nod and moments later, the music began and the party stepped forward.

      Harry waited anxiously by the official Ministry of Magic minister who kept beaming soppy smiles at everyone.  Harry felt his breath catch as the party moved forward out of the house and down the makeshift aisle created on the back lawn.  The canopy overhead emanated a warm light breeze over the crowd to counter-act the nippy February air.  Only a wizarding family would attempt to have an outside wedding in the middle of February.

      The instant Ginny's feet touched the grass, Harry's eyes were locked on one object only.  He never thought she could look more beautiful than she had at Ron and Hermione's wedding, but he was very wrong.  Her satin A-line champagne dress complimented her red hair, which swung down and carefully curled around her glowing face.  The beaded lace trim of the molded brocade bodice just barely caught glimmers of light under a graceful bolero jacket.  Ginny caught Harry's eye and her smile widened.  The look of admiration on his face pleased her and she was barely aware of touching the ground.  His champagne tie and vest matched her dress and gleamed with the smooth reflection of satin under his clean black tux jacket.

      Ginny barely felt her father kiss her cheek lightly before she stepped forward to join Harry.

     "Hi," he breathed, holding his hand out for her to take it.

     "Hi," Ginny smiled, grasping his fingers tightly.  Her eyes traveled over him head-to-toe before she met his eyes.  "Hi," she said again.  Harry grinned and turned in unison with her to face their officiator.

     "Bill, I think your wife is playing some sort of game," Charlie leaned forward and whispered to his brother standing slightly ahead of him.  Bill didn't really need the alert: his eyes had been pinned on Chessie since the beginning of the ceremony.  Chessie would clutch her flowers tightly from time to time, causing the petals to shake off the daisies.  A small crease appeared on her delicate brow and Bill thought he detected beads of sweat forming on her temples.

      "Aw, hell, Bill, is she going into labor right now?" Charlie chuckled as Chessie regained her composure.

      "Damn," was the only response Charlie received.  Bill watched his wife carefully as she brushed fallen daisy petals off her taut belly.

      "She's okay," Bill breathed aloud, reassuring himself.  He continued to watch her, glancing indiscreetly at his watch.  Five minutes…eight minutes…ten…and still no follow-up contractions yet.  They were safe…for a little while longer anyway.

     "Good trooper you've got there," Charlie said.  Danica caught his exchange with Bill and shot him a death look.

     "One you've got isn't too bad either," Bill sniggered as Charlie retreated into submission.

     "Welcome for the first time as man and wife—Harry and Virginia Potter!" George said regally as Harry and Ginny turned from their kiss and started down the aisle.  The reception was being held in the far corner of the backyard, in a wizard tent.  Guests stepped inside to a simple but cozy ballroom with buffet tables, a dance floor, and appropriate music wafting through the air from enchanted speakers.

      Harry and Ginny quickly took places inside the door and greeted their entering guests.  Bill caught Chessie at the door, with a warm jacket in one hand and Zack in the other.

      "Sorry, kids, but we've got an unexpected visitor," Bill said, kissing his sister.  Chessie did the same and followed through with giving Harry a warm hug and kiss as well.

      "I held this one off as long as possible but I'd best get going before my water breaks and ruins the party," Chessie winked as Bill helped her into the coat.

      "Give us a call when things start up," Ginny called after their retreating forms.  "I'd hate for Mum and Dad to miss the arrival just because of this silly reception."

      "At least you think so, too.  I only came for the food," said a bright voice.  Ginny turned in surprise to see Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Madame Pomfrey standing before her.  She blushed and laughed as she embraced them.

      "Take the food and go.  We paid a fortune for it, so it ought to be the best thing at the party," Harry laughed.

      "I'll be the judge of that," Dumbledore said, tapping his nose.

      "Don't forget to send those owls to Maria," McGonagall warned Harry before she joined Dumbledore at the buffet table.

      "She'll manage without me, Professor," Harry grinned.  At her look of severity, he laughed and held up his hands in surrender.  "But I'll keep her on task."

      "I'm sure there's nothing Potter would like more to do on his honeymoon than to owl a sixteen-year-old Quiddich captain," Pomfrey said, rolling her eyes as she pecked the newlyweds on their respective cheeks.

      "Better not be," Minerva growled as she left Madame Pomfrey behind her.  The school nurse rolled her eyes again and gave them a hasty "congratulations" before scampering off to join her colleagues.

      "I'm afraid Professor McGonagall has a strange idea of a holiday," Harry said bemusedly.

      "Comes from never having taken one, I suppose," replied Lupin.  Tonks was at his side, and though they weren't exactly arm-in-arm, they were standing awfully close…

      "Congratulations, Harry," Lupin said, clapping the young man on the shoulder.  "I think you know it, but…we're all proud of you."

      "Thank you, sir," Harry said, trying to hide the thickness threatening to break his voice.  Ginny slipped her fingers into his palm and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

      "Thank you, Lupin," she said softly, leaning forward to kiss the man on the cheek.  He nodded, his eyes overflowing with emotion for Harry.  Tonks grinned through all the emotion and gave Harry and tight hug.

      "Now all you need to do is work on all those little Potters," she said.  "Especially that brilliant little one, Tonks."

      "We'll think about it," Ginny laughed as she hugged Tonks as well.

      The guests continued to move past Harry and Ginny, all of them faces previously seen at Ron and Hermione's wedding just a few months before.  Neville was already flirting shamelessly with one of Ginny's cousins, while Lee was working on attracting Katie Bell's attention away from Oliver Wood.  Dean and Seamus arrived singly, but they two were already working on earning a few girls of their own.  Hagrid had found the Hogwarts professors table and had joined his coworkers.  Snape gave the chair a doubtful look but it seemed to hold its own under the giant.  The Creevy brothers were busy snapping pictures as well as chattering incessantly.  Luna, in turn, was sitting at the wedding party table, sipping wine and looking quite disgusting with Percy and his girlfriend.  Though it was probably just the former.  Fred and George were chatting up Angelina and a friend she had brought.  Ginny's boss, Yvonne, was getting along splendidly with her widower Uncle Myron…she'd worry about _that_ later.

     "Think they're ready?" Harry asked when the line disappeared.  He took Ginny's hand and squeezed it.

     "Ready or not, here we come," Ginny responded as they stepped into the room amid applause and cries of delight.  The world had never looked brighter.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

This was great fun and look I even wrote an Epilogue!!! (if you haven't noticed _that_ by now, I'd be a bit worried)  Thanks for all the yummy reviews!  School has kept me busy, but I haven't forgotten about this.  I want to make a sequel--you know the whole "when they have kids" thing that's overly done ;) –so we'll see…maybe one day… :) In the meantime, thank you thank you thank you for reading this and loving it and reviewing it and holding it close to your heart! OK now I'm getting carried away.  Farewell, good readers!  Till we meet again!


End file.
